


death after death after death

by bipp_splapl



Series: to reckon [10]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Afterlife, Aftermath of Violence, Bad Jokes, Burns, Canonical Character Death, Complete, Dead People, Ectoplasm, Epilogue, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Introspection, M/M, Scars, Suicide, but somebodys gotta do it, chihiro be soft, chihiro is sassy, hehe hey guys. we're back, hifumi waddles, its hard writing hagakureon content when one of them is dead and the other is alive, its referenced but it didnt rlly happen that's on chap 3, leon tells a really stupid joke it brings me so much joy, let chihiro be out of pocket!!!!!, mondo spits on u (pov) (not clickbait), she will be given celeste privileges when she's no longer a douchebag asldkfjasdlfjdas, taeko yasuhiro time, that's the worst explanation of the chap 2 execution you'll ever read ad;faskfksafj, the hagakureon is referenced often but kinda hard to write when 1 is dead the other vibin, the hifumi chapter is too long and hifumi is hard to write, the leosaya was past and Not Active but i do have a chapter addressing it, they're all dead its an afterlife au for thh, this one is gonna be long we got a lot of murders to cover, we do be oozing goo tho, you ever just hug your boyfriend and cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipp_splapl/pseuds/bipp_splapl
Summary: it's the afterlife ! it's trigger happy havoc ! welcome to your death, kidsEDIT: I've decided to complete the rest of the "to reckon" anthology as a chapter fic under THIS FIC so if you've been reading to reckon just bookmark this fic this is the one i'll be updating from now onEDIT TWO (12/3): After a weird semester I have finally come back and finished this fic. Thank you all for being so patient with me <3EDIT THREE (12/7) as of today this series is COMPLETE! thank you all for reading this work <3
Relationships: Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Hagakure Yasuhiro/Kuwata Leon, Ikusaba Mukuro/Maizono Sayaka, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo, Kuwata Leon/Maizono Sayaka
Series: to reckon [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715428
Comments: 103
Kudos: 304





	1. FOREWORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI ! - I added a foreword to update on the direction of this series

HI! Thank you for being interested in this fic. This was originally just a standalone piece for my anthology series "To Reckon" which consists of character studies for the THH Afterlife. However, after some restructuring, I've decided that I am going to make it a chapter fic from now on. 

This is technically part "ten of twenty" fics in the anthology. "To Reckon" officially started with Mondo's execution, and I have some more establishing like, universal stuff, the nature of Leon and Sayaka's relationship, Chihiro bein Chihiro, status of the afterlife, why Jin Kirigiri is vibin around. You're welcome to read the fics ahead of this, they're all in the anthology tag this fic is a part of. However, if you really just want to jump in and get going, this is a great place to do so. All you gotta know is - it's Trigger Happy Havoc, it's an afterlife au. I will be updating the rest of the series under this fic instead.

SERIES TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: 

death, violence, swearing, trauma. general danganronpa stuff. if a character has trauma good chance we might explore it. i won't let this get any worse than the dr series but ya, do what u need to do to stay comfortable


	2. FOREWORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god dammit the title for this chapter keeps on changing ack to foreword just know its supposed to be "falling, fell"

Kirigiri Jin was not pleased with the way his students were behaving. No matter how much he tried to excuse their behavior, to blame the mastermind and not the pawns, a pang of guilt still struck at his core. He liked to think he’d taught them better, guided them to be stronger, and yet here they were, caught in a blood bath. It hurt just as much as Nanami Chiaki’s execution. As the Student Council’s slaughter. 

But he dare not watch the outside world. Jin would rather monitor Class 78 than watch the chaos brought about by 77-B, led by a student he failed most of all. Flicking through the channels, he took a pause on the screen of two students, former friends during their school days, but reduced to a far less healthy state of codependency. 

From the moment the games began, Jin knew Yasuhiro Taeko would pull a stunt. She was an exceedingly clever girl, with some of the highest test scores of the class. While she never seemed to fully “mesh” with the rest of the class, the Ultimate Gambler earned her spot amongst her peers for a sharp wit and sense of dedication. These traits, once so promising to bring a great hope to the world through game theory and economic philosophy, were now making her out to be a rather deadly player. 

Meanwhile, Yamada Hifumi, lovable loser he was, seemed far too at ease with the role he took on as a murderer-accomplice. The Ultimate Fanzine Writer was always one for delusions, but at least at school he could stand up for his own. He had reason to be proud of his talents, as strange as they were. Whatever backbone he’d developed at Hope’s Peak has seemed to dissolve into jelly. 

Where was the boy who felt comfortable teasing his classmates? Where was the girl who would play along? Instead he only saw manipulation, broken dishes, involuntary flinches, voluntary hyperfixations. Their former friendship reduced to a state of codependency, for sure. 

At one point he decided to tune the audio in to hear the conversation but quickly tuned out, feeling himself boil over with rage. What she was accusing Taka of doing was… _unforgivable_ , and absolutely, under no circumstance, true. Even in his current “state.” This was a cry for help, not a time to excuse. He was already livid with the lack of general care and empathy being shown towards the hall monitor from his classmates, but this was unacceptable behavior, all for a cockamamey scheme that could never work out because who on God’s green Earth ever believe there was a killer robot running amok in Hope’s Peak Academy?

Jin actually had to take a lap around the school to calm down. Once she had recovered from her execution (because execution seemed to be inevitable at this point), he would give her a stern talking to. The former headmaster carried himself with quick strides down the hallway, a man on a mission. He must remain calm and cool and collected before everything falls apart all over again. 

Making his way down to the first floor, Jin took a left, right, left, and finally another right, landing himself in the dining hall. Inside sat the Ultimate Baseball Star and Ultimate Biker, playing what seemed to be a game of poker using junk food as chips. _Ugh, poker_ , Jin scrunched up his nose with a new-found distaste for gambling. 

A pair of greetings pulled him back to reality, and Jin simply gave them a little hand wave in response. Having made his way to the kitchen, he went to grab a tea bag before pausing, switching to decaf. No more tea. Not after the behavior he witnessed. 

After preparing the perfect cup of coffee he once again left the kitchen, left, right, left and a final left before making his way to the stairs. But as he drudged back up the flight he noticed two other pairs of footsteps. When he paused, the sound paused to. _Step step. Step step, step step_. Sighing, Jin turned around, and inspected a rather guilty looking pair of teenagers following his every move.

“Hey there, teach!” Leon ran a hand through his hair, flashing the same sheepish grin Kirigiri saw time and time again in the principal’s office. The biker didn’t say anything, opting to shove his hands in his coat pockets and turn away. Mondo had occupied himself with what must have been the most interesting cobweb in the world, because he sure refused to look Jin in the eye.

“While any other day I would happily stay and chat, boys, I really must be going-” Jin turned, before being cut off by the baseball player, now trailing his side. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Leon smiled, what had once been considered front page material now missing a few teeth. “What’s the rush, man, uh, _sir?_ ”

Jin pushed on despite the dead weight that’s been added. “While nothing is for certain, I would like to know who could possibly be joining us-”

He was stopped by the slam of a fist on the wall. Both Jin and Leon froze, turning to look behind them. Mondo was a few steps back, eyes trained on the floor, breathing heavily. “What’d’ya mean “joinin’ us _?”_ He finally spoke up. Jin sighed.

“Well there seems to be a plot trying to frame one of the students for another’s murder-”

“ _Which one’s?”_

Jin only gave a small smile. “I think you know, Oowada-san.”

The headmaster turned to keep going up the stares, hoping this time the two boys would know their place. Only Leon stayed behind, slinking off to go tell Sayaka about a possible new arrival. Mondo trailed a few steps behind at all times, which was honestly much more menacing than he probably intended it to be. After another flight-and-a-half of looming, Kirigiri looked back.

“Oowada-san, it will not change any outcomes.”

“Mondo’s’fine.”

“I can’t do that, that would start a whole chian of name readjustments!”

“Then drop the honorific, Kirigiri.”

“ _Why_ are you doing this, kid?” Jin asked, putting a hand to his forehead. There was a long pause before he heard a long sigh and the sound of fabric ruffling coming from the biker’s direction. 

“I just gotta see for myself. I can’t imagine kyoudai would fall for such a stupid trick-”

His voice was cut off by the sound of bells ringing. And for just the briefest of moments, the light in his eyes died. _Phosphene, phosphene, phosphene._

Jin shook his head. “I’m not sure he actually ‘fell’ for anything, in the end.”


	3. they were something more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tfw ur kyoudai fuckin dies f in the chat bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi ty for waiting around with me also WOAH this one got way more kudos at first than i was expecting yall on that ishimondo shit
> 
> also i recommend reading the rest of the series this comes from "to reckon" these all work as standalones but i put references in each fic to each other. like i established in this verse, taka and mondo were dating at hope's peak before having their memories erased, so that's why i reference that here. just for the ppl who haven't read the other parts. plz read the other parts it will help clear up repeated imagery/phosphene/etc anyways i love this fic tysm for being here aaaaa

Mondo had never run so fast in his life. That’s not true. There were the cops at his brother’s accident. But not since then. Hell, he was given that time a run for its money right about now. 

He bound down the stairs three, no, four at a time. He had to get to the gate. God knows he didn’t want to find what he thought he’d find, but Mondo had to be there. He had to be. 

Why on earth would Ishimaru Kiyotaka let himself up and die like that? He was the smartest motherfucker Mondo had ever met, and he was tough as they come. Maybe he was a softie at heart, but hell, who wasn’t? Maybe that Togami shithead (fuck him). 

His kyoudai knew better than to die. Mondo knew he knew better than to die. So why did he die? Why was he dead? He knew why. He knew exactly why. He killed Daiya and Chihiro and now Taka. 

Somebody put him on a wanted list because Oowada Mondo’s amassed quite a track record.

No. He couldn’t think of that right now. Shaking his head, Mondo put all his focus on the slap of feet against the ground, feet against ground, feet, ground, feet, ground. It’s all he could think about without getting sick. It was the only thing that made sense. Somewhere in the back of his mind, carnival lights burned.  _ Phosphene, phosphene, phosphene. _

He was the last to arrive at the gates of Hope’s Peak. Leon and Sayaka were standing over the newest arrival while Mukuro and Chihiro hung back, separately, of course. When Mondo walked up, Chihiro gave a little way, having progressed to the point of “comfortable amongst others.” Despite how absolutely fucked the situation was, Mondo what he hoped looked like a smile in return. He ignores Mukuro, who does not acknowledge his presence in return. Pretty standard for their relationship.

Lavender eyes met red, and just like that, his world came crashing down. It was real. It was all so real. Sucking in, Mondo took a shaky step forward, only to stop, feeling his legs buckle beneath him. His mind was racing. His mind was screaming, it was screaming  _ phosphene, phosphene, phosphene _ . Why did he kill Chihiro? Why did he lose control? 

Why did Enoshima Junko do this in the first place? She’d be giddy if she saw the state he was in right now. After a few steadying breaths, the biker tried again.

Mondo heard two voices bubble over the crowd as he approached. Sayaka was kneeling on the ground, fanning their newest arrival with her hands, while Leon was trying to keep Ishimaru distracted.

“H-hey man, did you hear the one about the farmer who had a headache?” Leon tried, clearly running out of material at this point.

“Kuwata-kun this is so stupi-” 

“I’m _ just trying to keep him conscious, geez- _ He was complaining of “my grains.” Get it? My grains? Migraines?”

“Oh my god…” Sayaka rolled her eyes, too busy checking on Ishimaru’s condition to chew the baseball player out for how classless and totally insensitive he was. She went to say something before stopping herself, glancing up at Mondo. With a shake of her head, she mouthed,  _ Not now. _ He doesn’t care. Without a word he pushes past the two, kneeling beside his kyoudai- 

No, something more than that.

Lavender and red. One so soft, and one so stern. Neither of them was ready to die, and yet here they were, just breathing. Just present. Mondo’s eyes wander to the head wound, still “bleeding” ectoplasm, oozing down Ishimaru’s hollow cheeks. It broke his heart. With a heavy sigh, he bunched up his jacket sleeve, wiping some of it away.

A bony hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. Mondo hadn’t realized how much weight Taka had lost until he was staring his kyoudai in the face. Letting the grip on his jacket loosen, he rubbed a finger over a sunken red eye. A small gesture, but nothing could encapsulate what he was feeling right now. His boyfriend. His partner-in-crime. A man he fell in love with twice now, once at school, and once during their “communal school life.” His kyoudai. 

Mondo never wanted to meet under these pretenses, least of all wishing death upon his partner. But the selfish part of him was so happy to see Kiyotaka. He couldn’t decide whether to feel guilty or not. For a second, the hall monitor smiled, maybe the first smile since his execution, and the stormy clouds in his mind melted. That was a conversation to have another day.

“ _ Kyoudai-”  _ Ishimaru started to speak, but his sentence was cut short with a hug. The kind they never had the chance to do in public back at school. He froze, unsure what to do with the sudden mass wrapped around his shoulders. 

“ _ We don’t have to do that anymore, babe... _ ” And for the first time since his boyfriend’s death, Taka let his guard down.

Their classmates stood back, watching as the two quietly sobbed into each other, exchanging hushed whispers and soothing touches. Sayaka leaned in towards Leon, nudging him in the side. “I’m glad this wasn’t the reality where Ishimaru-kun is punished right alongside Oowada,” to which Leon shooed her off. 

He was only half-listening, anyways. Hands wandered up to his lock, playing with it mindlessly. Jesus, Sayaka, don’t you know true love is occurring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aheehee im a film major irl with a focus on screenwriting and its my goal in everything i do, from academic papers to scripts to fanfic, to see just how ridiculous of dialogue i can write with it still making sense and not pulling away from the story. you'll see that across things i write. 
> 
> i love this fic. sometimes i go back and be like damn. i wrote that? damn. ty for being on this ride with me.
> 
> next chapter is so fun bc hifumi gets here and i get to ue the word waddle a LOT. i tend to repeat phrases. i also tend to talk about ppl looking at things/eyes/etc. idk that's just me. eyes be like. eyes. its my one like writing insecurity aaaaa but also danganronpa has iconic eyes its whatever lol gotta not. beat myself up. self love or whatever. its free literature who tf cares. ANYWAYS. stay tuned for the next parts.


	4. out of pocket chihiro lookin headdass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is an interlude. i cant work on the hifumi chapter rn but i still wanted to update and let ppl know its not like freezing, i just got busy oof. leon and chihiro are friend

Elsewhere, Kuwata Leon strolled up to Chihiro. The two boys watched Ishimaru and Oowada's reunion. Despite any trepidations the programmer held, even he thought the reunion was a touching one. 

Still, there were things about this situation that was not quite adding up. Glancing over, Leon nudged his friend in the side. “I just can’t believe you’ve actually programmed Alter Ego to do stuff like that. How do I know you weren’t, like, talking through the program to them? That’s like, something out of a sci-fi movie. Way too convenient…”

Chihiro looked up, tilting his head in question. He seemed to do that every time he was confused - like, apparently, now. With a hum, he pursed his lips, bringing a finger to them in thought. Another quirk. After school life, “communal” life, and now afterlife together, you pick up on these sorts of things. 

“I think I will explain through comparison…” The programmer started, giving a thoughtful pause to gather his thoughts. “I would like you to consider the fact that after Oowada-kun was found guilty for um... _y-you know…_.anyways, uh, he was zip-tied to a motorbike and sent full throttle into a cage of death - a cage of death created by, mind you, Souda Kazuichi-”

Leon scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. The apparent betrayal of their friendship was still a touchy subject for him.

Chihiro went on. “That would be a terrifying act in-and-of-itself without the electrical pulses. The velocity and added voltage literally evaporated Oowada kun’s body!”

“Then, a second machine (presumably made by Souda Kazuichi) took whatever goop was left and, in an attempt at a sick joke at the expense of Oowada-kun’s pride, compressed the leftover remains into a buttery substance. At this point, the, um, “Mondo Butter” was taken by Monokuma (hellish demon bear, creature of nightmares, another Souda original) and slathered on flapjacks. To rub salt in the metaphorical wound, what turned out to be Junko’s fursona forced our classmates to watch as it consumed Oowada-kun’s body with breakfast-”

A beat. Chihiro had spoken so fast he had forgotten to breathe. Leon watched as his friend gasped for air, keeling over in the middle of Hope’s Peak courtyard. He didn’t have much to say to any of that, um, “comparison,” really. He just scratched his head. 

After a few minutes of wheezing, Chihiro had composed himself enough to stand back up straight. With a few false starts under his belt, Leon finally had the guts to ask what does any of _that_ have to do with things, idiot?

Chihiro simply shrugged. “And after all that, you still dare to call AlterEgo inconceivable?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said, interlude. i'll post the hifumi chapter by the end of the weak. maybe both hifumi and celeste. and from there we're pst the halfway point !! yay!!!
> 
> also i adore chihiro saying out of pocket things


	5. dipshit teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hifumi time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note i do reference the assault accusations made against kiyotaka in this chapter. i do not go into too much detail. plz take care of yourself, if this makes you uncomfortable, don't read

It took a few hours, but they had finally started to calm the prefect down. Still, you didn’t need to look twice to realize he was not doing well. Sayaka had seen, what, six deaths now (including her own), and even amongst the executions, none looked quite as sickly as Ishimaru. His cheeks had hollowed out, with sallow skin and dark under bags. 

The shell of a man. The epitome of death. And the ectoplasm running down Kiyotaka’s face was not helping his case. 

Mondo had managed to coax his boyfriend onto a bench, draping his jacket around his shoulders, trying to soothe the quaking with hushed words of affirmation. Leon stopped by for a few minutes, asking a few questions about how everyone was doing (with special emphasis on the clairvoyant, who at this point was nowhere to be found…) Taka answered the best he could, but the conversation was quickly shut down by a protective arm urging him to rest. Taking the hint, Leon wished his condolences and left them alone. 

The world was quiet. No one had the heart to tell Kiyotaka it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Trials always took place within twenty-four hours of the crime, giving the victim less than a day to grapple with their mortality before facing the murderer. None of the pairs took it well, and it required days of conversation to adjust to these new relationships. Ishimaru was in no place to deal with this information. If any of them were wise ( _instead of dipshit teenagers, because really,_ Leon thought to himself, _that’s all we are)_ , they would have taken him somewhere more secluded within the school to recover. 

But he hadn’t seen the sky in so long. A gentle breeze would heal all wounds, and sunlight feeds the soul. The harm will come, as it inevitably does, but let him bask a little longer.

_Ding dong bing bong._

How were they to know the harm would come so soon?

\--------

The Ultimate Dojin author was already standing at the gates, rubbing his head like an idiot. Sayaka rushed up, greeting him with all the pleasantries one could expect when they die. _The trial didn’t take long…_ the idol thought to herself, plastering a smile on her face. _And Hifumi didn’t look nearly as traumatized as he ought to for an execution…_ In fact, he looked more bewildered than anything. Other than the ectoplasm oozing from his head (the same way as Ishimaru’s, that’s odd…) Yamada was the image of health. 

“...d-dead?” He stammered, cocking his head to the side. “That’s a little disappointing-”

Hifumi began to reel his body back into a high pitch scream when Sayaka cut him off, not exactly in the mood to have her eardrums burst. “Dead as a doornail, I’m afraid, that’s to be expected after an execution…” He was executed, right? He killed Ishimaru. He had to be. Short trial…

Hifumi tilted his head to the side. “Wh-what? No, no Maizono-chan, the last thing I remember was the art roo…” His voice trailed off as he looked around the courtyard, spotting a familiar face. A face he thought would be burning in hell after what the perpetrator did to Mistress Ludenberg. Damn you, Ishimaru Kiyotaka. 

Taka looked up, his attention caught by the sound of screeching in the distance, and a fast-approaching waddle. The prefect attempted to sit up as a greeting, but just as quickly as he moved, he was pushed back down, a calloused hand urging him to rest. He tried again, and once more was held down, this time with a gruff order to _Rest._

Alright. Guess there’s no denying that, even if Kiyotaka wasn’t the most pleased with the public display of affection. Hifumi would just have to deal with it. After his misconduct, he did not deserve pleasantries. Not right now. 

After another minute or so, the dojin finally arrived at the bench. The fire under his belly had died out and was clutching at his chest, trying to catch his breath. Neither Mondo nor Kiyotaka greeted their classmate. Pulling out a hankie (which wasn’t blood-stained, which isn’t right, maybe he was dead after all…), Hifumi dabbed at his brow for an ounce of composure. 

As brisk as the wind, Hifumi stood erect, a finger pointing at the demon known as... ‘Taka.’ “How dare you lay a hand on that woman, you monstrous fiend!” He cried, his voice placed squarely in his lower register, filled with might. 

And yet there was no reaction from the pair. The best he got was a raised eyebrow from Mondo. Drats. Clearing his voice and rolling back his shoulders, Hifumi tried again. 

“You got what was coming to you, swin-”

The dojin couldn’t finish his sentence, as a pair of lilac eyes shot up at him, boring holes into his very soul, that would pry a little yelp out of the manliest of men, which was a category Hifumi found himself in, indeed. There was no shame shrinking back into himself - anybody would. 

“ _What_ did you say?” The first thing Hifumi noticed about Mondo’s statement was a lack of vulgarity. There was no swearing. Why was there no swearing? Oh god, he’s never heard Mondo not swear before, oh no, oh no-

“t-t-that mONSter assaulted Mistress Ludenberg!” Hifumi took a step back, raising a hand towards his torso as if it would do anything. He was ready to chop. Chop what, he didn’t know. Pompadour, probably. Maybe- maybe he couldn’t take the biker in a fight, but he could certainly mess up his hair. “h-he u-USed her and took compromising photographs as proof!! And then h-h-he kidNAPPEd alter eg- WAAAAAAH !!!!!”

The sound that escaped the dojin’s mouth could best be described as a squawk, almost like a seagull choking on a french fry. Mondo had grabbed him by his collar, Hifumi’s stubby arms flailing around helpless, clamoring out useless apologies mixed with oddly specific, anime-related threats. The biker grinned wildly, but there was no joy behind the smile. It was almost feral. Almost...despair inducing. All the while, Kiyotaka stayed on the bench, in absolutely no state of mind nor body to intervene, hating his role as a passive examiner.

“Is that so?” Mondo asked, flexing his other hand. Hifumi was able to sustain eye contact just long enough to shake out a frantic nod before looking away. He couldn’t lose like this. Did All Might ever step down? Did Goku? 

No. Never. Well, maybe a few times, but never to such brute. 

Hifumi whispered a little prayer to himself, and with the power of God and anime on his side, he decided to keep fighting the good fight. “I’m just glad...” his lips curled into a smile. “I’m just glad I got to him before he assaulted someone els-”

“ _you sICK SONUVA BITCH-”_

The biker reared back his arm into a fist, but before it could connect, Mondo felt a firm grip on his wrist. He glanced back, clearly pissed that anyone would interfere in such a punchable statement. But the fire in his eyes all but burned out when he saw Kiyotaka’s glower. 

“Forget him, Mondo.” The prefect did not ask, he demanded. Red eyes met lilac, sustaining their gaze for what seemed like an eternity. All the while, Hifumi wiggled. 

Mondo tightened his grip. Hifumi stopped. 

“Kyoudai-” 

“We do not have to keep the act up anymore,” Taka stood his ground, refusing to let go of the fist, knowing the second he released his grip, Hifumi would soon die a second death. “Now, let _go_ of him.”

Something inside Mondo melted, and for once in his life, he complied with the authorities. He let go of Hifumi. But whatever melted inside him didn’t melt quite enough. His “let go” looked more like a toss to the ground, the dojin landing with a thud, gasping for air. He didn’t even bother looking back at the pathetic mess. 

To that, Ishimaru gave a small but hopeful smile, mouthing the words thank you. Mondo decided that there are more important things in this world than beating the ever-living shit out of a greasy-ass otaku. 

The prefect’s smile grew stony as he turned to look at Yamada (a nervous wreck). “I will not stand here and lie, pretending I was tricked by your note,” Taka asserted his words a blow to Mondo’s core. _He knew, he knew he’d fucking die and he still went._ “But I can firmly say that I have not will, not and could never have done any of those...those _hateful accusations_ you made against me.”

All Hifumi could do was stare, completely dumbfounded. His mouth gaped a little. Every start he tried to make was a false one, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “B-but Mistress Ludenbur-” 

“Lied,” a firm voice said behind him. The three turned to see a former soldier standing there, her hands bundling up her shirt. Despite her title, tough and proud, at this moment, she looked rather...small. 

“W-who are yo-”

“Ikusaba Mukuro, you watched me die,” she explained, the words rolling off the tongue as easily as _The weather is nice_ or _I would like a soda, please_. “Ishimaru-san did not lay a finger on Miss Yasuhiro. It was a lie.”

Mukuro turned to look at Taka and Mondo, her expression stony. One looked at her confused but grateful, while the other kept his vision tracked on Hifumi. To keep an eye on the blackened or to avoid making eye contact with her, Mukuro could not tell. Both were valid motives. 

Hifumi turned to Taka, horrified. “You mean…”

“Yes.”

“And you knew-”

“Yes.”

“ _Why?”_ A beat. This was no villain, but a poor misunderstood victim-of-circumstance. Maybe...maybe he, Yamada Hifumi, _the Ultimate Dojin Writer_...was the villain all along. His question became a plea as he felt the run of nervous snot run from his nose. “Why did you come?”

Ishimaru Kiyotaka paused. Considering his words carefully, he shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I had to march forward, and this was the direction I chose.” A smile tugged at his lips. It looked tired. 

These were not the words...anyone wanted to hear. The silence was deafening and thick and had they a hot knife, it could have been cut through like...well…

The Ultimate Moral Compass stood up and walked over to his murderer, offering him a hand. “If I heard the accusations made against me, I would have done the same. You did the right thing, Yamada, albeit under the wrong pretenses. I admire your determination to protect someone in need!”

Instead of taking his hand, there was a scramble, and Taka soon found Hifumi bowed at his feet, mumbling a thousand apologies. Behind him, he sensed the movement of someone taking a step back. Of his boyfriend giving him space. It was...a hard truth to face. It was already so hard to face himself, he couldn’t imagine what Mondo was going through. He was not a good man for pushing those feelings aside, but they would be processed later.

For now, Kiyotaka turned his attention to Mukuro, who was watching, always watching, expression unreadable. Red eyes met her stony grey, and he points at her (albeit, a little more sluggish than he used to…)

“You...I remember you. You were a good student. I knew I recognized those eyes back at-”

“I’m sorry.” An unexpected apology cut him off, causing Ishimaru to drop his arm in confusion. “This is my sister’s fault, and I went along.”

Kiyotaka nods, bringing his arm back to his chest, before giving himself a small strike. And then another. Then two more. Repentance, Mukuro figured. As soon as the beating started, it stopped, with his fist laying idly on his chest. 

“But we all ended up in the same place,” he said, glancing down at the mess at his feet. ”Right, Ikusaba-chan?”

_Ding dong, bing bong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas i finally did it i finally updated this fic im gonna finish it by the end of the week and move on. do you know how HARD it is to write for hifumi? do you?? good god that took forever. so sorry for the delay. 
> 
> i want to try and give every character in the series at least one or two chapters where they are the emphasis, they all deserve love. even hifumi. i gotta admit tho most of my outline included lines like "hifumi opened his stupid fucking gerbil mouth" and "hifumi literally pissed his pants and cried like the baby he was" and as much as i would have LOVED included that, uh, this one is a little more serious.
> 
> also this part was LONG asdfjasfklsafkjflajfafasdfasdfasfsff oh my god this was so hard to write but I DID IT GUYS COME GET YALLS JUICE


	6. the gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello there taeko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe thought i was gonna end it at this chapter but nah i got one more in me. i didn't proofread. i through in grammarly and yeeted it up here.

There were no angels at these gates, nor screams of the damned. There was a bird chirping and bright, bright sunlight. It burned. It burned against her fresh scars, streaks running up her legs and torso, licks at her underarms. A singeing pain. A singeing smell. What was that smell?

Her hands were still clutched together - she was a little surprised they didn’t melt together in the flame. Yasuhiro Taeko peeked one eye open, and then both. A flicker of shock rushes over her face, for this was Hope’s peak. Did she not just die here? And this was the outside. Were the gates thrown open, was she finally free, finally, finally free?

A soft  _ ahem  _ pulls her back to reality, and Taeko whips around, little grace in her step. She doesn’t care about composure. She is free. It was all a hoax, the mob, the pile, the fire, the truck, it was all a lie for the Queen of Liars. Free, free, free-

There stood a classmate of hers the Ultimate Gambler knew to be dead. Maizono Sayaka, the Ultimate Pop Sensation, albeit in a slightly less gaudy outfit than the ones she used to sport. Simple and white, with a giant pink sash around her middle. Tasteful. Plain. Dead. Taeko cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, just enough to make sure her drills didn’t fall off. The motion felt light, much lighter than it ever had before.

Reaching down to smooth out her crinoline, Taeko froze when they met nothing. Hands made a grabby motion, searching for fabric, but there was nothing there. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Her head is too light, and her dress is not puffy, and the sun is out, and that girl, that girl right there, is dead. Stealing herself, she looked down, only to be met with the harsh truth of reality. 

Her dress was in tatters. Patting up and down, from the skirt to her shoulders, Taeko found burn holes and rubbles throughout, her most expensive lolita outfit in all but ruins. As hands trailed upward, she gasped, a distinct lack of hair brushing against her hands. Instead of soft curls, only two hard wires were poking into her back—the singed smell. Burnt hair and an audible sob as Celestia Ludenberg collapsed to the ground. 

It was real. And she was dead. And this, all of this, the greatest sin is known to man, committed twice within one morning - it had all been for nothing. This was not freedom. This was purgatory, her own personal hell, stuck forever in Hope’s Peak, with Maizono, apparently. No vampires. No castle. No cats. Just a never-ending communal life. 

Looking around frantically, Taeko raised an incredulous finger towards Sayaka, only for her breath to catch. Something shimmering caught her eye, pulling her focus toward the fact that was no longer a decorative claw, but a piece of metal that had melted into her hand. A loss of words. A loss of spirit. Whatever fire fueled her underbelly died, as there was a brand of failure stuck in plain sight. 

There was no need for accusations, nor pointed jabs, or even false pleasantries. Instead, she slumped forward, head in her hands, and sobbed. 

Sayaka had nothing to say. They were never good friends at Hope’s Peak, and they were even worse friends during their communal life. For an idol, she was never all that charismatic. Far too reserved for the role, always finding photo ops and meet-and-greets a necessary evil. With years of plastered smiles and amicable hugs under her belt, she took a step forward, placing a gentle hand on Celestia’s shoulder…

...only to elicit harder sobs. Well drats, that’s not what she wanted to do at all. Sayaka kneeled next to her classmate, not her friend, and traced small circles in her back, hoping this will help rub some of the physical pain away, at least. 

It was hard to comfort Celeste. It’s the last thing she wanted to do after witnessing the trial and hearing the accusations thrown around so laissez-faire. But it was what the ultimate gambler needed. No one should be alone during a time like this. She remembered dying alone, she remembering arriving alone. The first casualty of Junko’s game, stuck in a strange limbo for hours until Mukuo’s arrival (not as if she was much comfort at the time…) 

Jin tried his best to guide them. But they needed someone who experienced the same games, even if so briefly, to understand. Just for a moment, she would put morals aside. Feeling the tremors beneath her finger calm, just for a moment longer. 

After another ten minutes, the gambler had calmed down enough to greet. Sayaka was sitting on the ground next to her now, gently stroking burnt hair. Licking her fingers, she pinched out an ember.

“Ah, yes, well- ...Yasuhiro-chan, welcome to you-”

“I am Miss Celestia Ludenberg, and you will refer to me as such!”

Whatever pity the pop sensation held for her classmate evaporated probably as fast Celeste’s sweat in the flame (bad joke Sayaka don’t think things like that-) Rolling her eyes at the clearly-phony accent, she continued. “As I was saying, this is a version of-”

“You do not seem to be listening, Maizono-san,” Celeste cut her off again, this time pushing away from the gentle touch. “My name is Miss Celestia Ludenberg, The Ultimate Gambler, Queen of Liars. Do you understand?” She waited for a beat, looking rather expectantly. “... _ do you?!” _

“You screwed up. Your plan was half-baked from the beginning-” 

“Says you. Did you really think if you got away with killing the ball boy, Naegi would have stuck his neck out for you, hm? At least Kuwata’s trial had an air of mystique. What are you doing here anyway,  _ mon amie _ , I distinctly remember finding a knife lodged in your abdomen~”

Without another word, Sayaka stood up, dusted off her skirt, and walked away. There was nothing to be said. 

Celeste watched her depart with a moment of hesitation before scrambling to her feet, heels clicking on the pavement. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked, struggling to keep pace with the idol’s stride. “You did not answer my question!”

Sayaka whipped around, any semblance of friendliness or warmth gone. The sudden change in demeanor made Celeste take a step back. Blue eyes were icy and her voice, venomous.

“Welcome,  _ Taeko _ , to your afterlife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if ther's mistakes and i'll reread it later and fix em sorry folks i just need to get this chpater done and move on adofjaskfdjadf


	7. it's what she deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> REMINDER that i'll just be finishing the "to reckon" series as a chapter fic under death after death after death kk we good ily have fun stay safe squiddos

After a long pause, Celestia Ludenburg blinked, once, twice and then a third time, before reaching down to smooth out whatever was left in her dress (more of a chemise at this point, really). 

“So...like vampires-”

“No, nothing like vampires,” Sayaka cut her off, her voice returning to what was now clearly a faked amiability. “Like spending the rest of eternity with your classmates because we all died in the same killing game.”

 _Ah. Yes. That._ **_Indeed._** Nodding, Celeste chose to turn away, looking up at the Hope’s Peak Academy central building. She had been here all before. Thrice drawn. Once in life, once in death, once in limbo. It all felt so real, and yet the too-cool scars and phantom pains at her legs told her otherwise. 

Taeko wanted to reach down and itch, itch at her ankles and her thighs, her stomach, and her back. Itch at the places her drills used to sit, the way hair brushing tickled just so. It would not be ladylike. And yet, one could argue that there is no need for manners in the afterlife. Counterpoint - she’ll be spending what looks to be forever with this crowd, it might be better to keep up a semblance of the feminine mystique. 

Turning her head ever so slightly, the sight of a six-foot biker stalking towards her made Celestia jump. Behind Oowada’s rapidly-approaching figure, Hifumi groveled at Ishimaru’s feet, which seemed rather fitting, honestly. But maybe the most frightening part of the scene where the two pairs of eyes watching her, one as scarlet as her own, and the other a steely grey. She knew that grey. Why did she know that grey...

“ _Yasuhiro_ -” Mondo called out, raising a hand to his mouth while the other searched for something in his pockets. “ _Got a few choice words for ya, doll..._ ”

No, Oowada was far more frightening that the prefect ever dreamed of being. Celeste quickly turned back towards Sayaka, giving her a rushed curtsy. “Well, it was pleasant seeing you again, but I have decided I have business that must be attended to, ah- _in that direction_. A tout a l’heure~”

Her heels clicked away, quickly turning from a controlled walk to a brisk jog to a full-on run. She really shouldn’t have skipped gym class for all those months. And she really shouldn’t be doing this in these shoes, they’ll get scuffed. Taking a quick glance behind, Taeko decided she had enough time to kick the shoes off, grab them, and run, run as fast as she could. 

...only they wouldn’t kick-off. Just like the ring, it seemed they had burned themselves into her feet, the leather and resin melting together. Well, if Miss Celestia Ludenberg broke her leg while running, she broke her leg while running. She would have plenty of time to heal in a place like this, she supposed. Celeste took off again, this time with vigor. 

She would not let Oowada Mondo catch her. She would not let anyone catch her, not ever again.

Nothing was setting in. Not after the crying, not after the classmates, not after the burn scars and semi-permanent fashion accessories. Celeste refused to believe she died. It’s not possible. There was so much she had yet to accomplish. Her castle. Her butlers. Her dreams. Her cat-

Her cat was what made her pause. 

Whatever happened to her precious baby? He was a purebred Persian. And while yes, as a creature of God’s, he must surely have some natural predatory instincts left in him, something about the way he would flop onto his side when he didn’t feel like walking anymore made Celeste question those abilities. He had claws, sure, but he never used them - he was too lazy to even tear at his scratching post. What happened to him while she was at Hope’s Peak?

What will happen to him now?

Celestia found herself so lost in thought she wasn’t even paying attention to her footing. She hit the ground before she even realized she was going down, her heel caught in between brick and mortar. She lay there, sprawled on the ground, a pile of tulle and fluff, struggling to release her heel before the brute of a man (brute of a _killer_ ) known as Oowada Mondo would grace her with his presence. 

Thank the lord Taeko chose to wear period-accurate bloomers that day of her death, or else she might risk a D Tier human gazing upon her undergarments. 

Mondo approached what looked like a frazzled goose, with its feathers all puffed in alert. Had he been in a better mood, he’d almost find this amusing. Class 78 loved to tease Taeko for her haughty airs back at actual school - maybe that’s why she hated all of them back. But the biker was not in a good mood. He was in a pretty fucking shitty mood if you asked him. The last thing he wanted was to be reunited with Taka, and here they were, two lovers in too deep, and it was all Taeko’s fault. 

He had a moral code. The code may have slipped not too long ago, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have it. Chihiro showed him grace, whatever the hell that meant. And as much as Mondo wanted to beat the ever-living shit out of this _literally flaming shit show,_ he wouldn’t. He didn’t even bother opening his mouth because he knew whatever he was about to say would be weaponized against him. Then he’d really lose his marbles.

She hadn’t bothered looking up at him, the fucking coward. Her eyes stayed planted squarely on the ground, dark hair hanging over her face. All bark and no bite. Where was the fight she showed in her trial? They all saw it, watched it with his own two eyes. Where was the absolute genius who thought, “Sure, let’s lie about rape”? Where was the big fucking brain that thought, "Yeah, let’s drag down three innocent men with me"? Where was fucking galaxy mind who so confidently planned a genocide, just for ten million useless dollars? 

That’s what it was, really. Sayaka didn’t know her classmates would be executed, neither did Leon. He didn’t intend to hide his killing as long as he did, but revealing the truth would mean betraying Chihiro’s secret. 

It’s one thing to have the blood of one friend on your hands. But what, fifteen? And Celestia Ludenberg was ready to throw that all away for some Twilight sparkle fantasy. All for money that wouldn’t even work in a broken economy is the real fucking kicker. What a load of horse shit. 

So instead, Oowada Mondo planted himself squarely above the quivering girl, swished and spit. It’s all the bitch deserved. 

And maybe, deep, deep down, Taeko agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mondo said u gonna cry? u gonna piss ur pants maybe? maybe shit and cum? imagine getting spit on by mondo oowada bro i cANNOT relate. 
> 
> taeko,,,,,,will need to work the hardest of everyone to redeem herself. that's tea


	8. tell her i said hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fujisaki chihiro has some questions

And as the chaos of three back-to-back-to-back arrivals settled outside, Fujisaki Chihiro found himself once again planted in front of a screen. It was almost as if none of this ever happened, and he was back at Hope's Peak, classes in session. And Jin would stop by and check-in because students really weren't  _ allowed _ in the Data Processing room, but he trusted the young programmer and extended some leniency in his place. 

They would talk, and Jin might send up lunch, and at around two in the afternoon, one of his classmates would crash with him, skipping class for a breather. Most of the time, it was Leon, though everyone seemed to pass through, every once in a while. Taka even came by a few times on the days he had to study for a test. And sometimes they would talk, and sometimes they would nap and sometimes they would sit together in silence, each doing their own thing, content with each other's presence. That was enough.

It was not enough right now. 

Chihiro watched as his classmates drudged through the halls of Hope's Peak Academy, mentally and physically exhausted from that trial. Togami flicked off pieces of ash and rubble from his suit, while Hagakure opted to shake out his hair. Kyoko, however, had other things to concern herself with. Using the opportunity, she slipped away to the bathhouse where, presumably, his AlterEgo program resided. A small smile tugged at his lips. It felt nice to be useful.

Jin wandered up beside him, neither looking at each other. The man's attention was focused on his daughter, so steady and sure. Chihiro had walked in on him watching Kyoko before. He didn't know what to say during these occasions. What could anyone say?  _ I'm sorry you're dead, and your daughter hates you?  _ What an insensitive statement. 

The programmer drummed his fingers against keyboard before glancing up, doe-eyed, and fresh-faced. "You never answered my question, you know?" Chihiro said. 

"Hm?" Jin glanced down, pulled away from whatever train of thought he was spiraling down. "I don't believe I understand Fujisaki-san-"

"Where is Nanami-chan?" Chihiro's voice falters. It almost sounded more like a plead than clarification. "I-I remembering hearing about her... _ um… _ "

The older man nods in understanding, seemingly permitting to trail off the sentence into nothingness. And Chihiro takes the opportunity, choosing to fiddle with a loose thread. After a moment's pause, Jin collected his words.

"Class 78 was not the only one here at Hope's Peak. After all, it is foolish everything revolves around your group of peers just because that's all you know." Jin started more of a preface than an explanation.  _ Shithead speaks in a monologue  _ Mondo once told them after an all-school assembly.  _ Everything's a fuckin' speech with this guy _ . And it was. It really was. 

"Most of your former school mates are here in our shared afterlife. However- ….for now, it is best that your class stays separate from the rest of society, taking this time to reconcile with your collective circumstance." 

Chihiro nods. "I see…" So there was a bigger world than Hope's Peak, which honestly sounded a little nice. It was getting weird there, to think the afterlife was just a group of teenagers and one forty-something man. 

"A group of your former classmates decided to stay here and reconcile with each other before returning to society at large. It worked well enough for them; I figured it would be good for this group, too. For the pain, you are feeling now was a completely different fare with them-"

Suddenly Jin turned to him, startling the programmer a little with his intense lavender gaze. "It was a mutual killing game, you know." His eyes weren't the same as Mondo's or Kirigiri's. There was always something behind them, something stormy. Something bad. He trusted Kirigiri, but it was times like these when he doubted himself. 

Chihiro looked back towards his screen and closed a few taps, switching to a new coding language he had been learning. Might as well. He had the time on his hands. "So, it could have been worse?" He asked.

"Sure. It was worse for the Student Council. And It might have been worse for Nanami-san, too. I tried to do best by all of you and look at me- best by a gyaru." 

To that, Fujisaki Chihiro nodded, giving a soft chuckle. There was no joy in his laugh. 

"Well, if you do see Nanami-chan, can you tell her I said hello? I always admired her, at least from a distance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw i changed my tiktok user to bipp_splapl bc i was tired of being fandmo specific and wanted to match my socials here. ill prob change my tumblr too. all in one place. also im wroking my way up to addressing Jin Kirigiri's Sins but this whole group doesn't know. but you know who does? chiaki. aha. that's on epilogue baby


	9. black and white and red all over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mukuro reads a book. taeko interrupts hers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in one day? we eatin good. come get ur juice yum yum

Death resumed back to normal after that, as normal as it was going to be with three new additions. Each dearly departed had their own path of recovery ahead, with plenty of reconciliations to be made in the meantime.

Of the three, the doujin artist seemed to be fairing the best. He was a flighty man, and his hatred of Kiyotaka dissipated about as soon as it first appeared. Hifumi still took extra precautions around the prefect, almost to the point of excess, but with Taka’s grace, life resumed as usual. He had a load of new ideas to write down, the tales of Hope’s Peak Academy would be his magnum opus. Betrayal! Sabotage! Death! Romance! But this time, instead of a stupid toy bear, there would be...a voluptuous 2D woman. Like Princess Piggles, but evil! Oh, Yamada could not wait. 

Kiyotaka was now under the protective care of his boyfriend, who frankly took his death rather personally. Mondo was blaming himself for Taka’s deterioration and felt the need to repay him. Not as lovers. Not even as kyoudai. But as a promise between men. And while yes, in theory, his execution marked a spiraling descent, Leon and Sayaka tried their best to remind him that their former classmates’ lack of attentive behavior was equally to blame. It did not matter.

A part of him wanted to feel angry at Taka, but he couldn’t. All he could do now is offer the help Ishimaru needed, even if it is post mortem. The biker had killed three men with his brash behavior. It was on him to make things right, even if they could not go more wrong. 

Yet no one made any real attempts to welcome Taeko back into their lives. Yasuhiro Taeko, they made a point of calling her, a name that brought nothing but shame. What is in a name? Power. Image. Control. Everything Taeko had put on the line, now coming to bite her in the ass. 

Of the group, Leon and Mondo were the most hostile, as they were the ones with immediate connections to her masterplan. The biker she understood, but why Leon was so up in arms about Hagakure’s involvement was beyond her. To be fair, the pair had been much closer friends than say, Leon and Hifumi. They were practically inseparable during the class’s self-imposed quarantine. There’s something to be said about existing on the same wavelength.

At best, she might be greeted with a tight-lipped smile in the dining hall. At worst, a glare or words hushed under breath. It felt just like school when she was an outcast for the vampire-queen facade. It felt like shit.

Still, Taeko held her head up high, as high as she could now, at least. Taking the opportunity to reassess herself, the former gambler decided a new look would help usher in a new era. With her drills all but destroyed in the fire, Taeko chose to ditch the curls and stick with her pixie cut. Her favorite dress was ruined, but much of her closet had manifested itself into this realm. Instead of corsets and collars, she chose something flowy. Something that wouldn’t constrict. Something that wouldn’t brush against her burns and scars, sending searing pain through her nerves every time it touched. 

Something cool. Celestia Ludenberg was warm-blooded nowadays. 

Heels clicked against the linoleum floor. She still hadn’t figured out how to get the shoes off, which was honestly at the top of her priority list at this point.  _ Click click click click  _ and then a pause, looking back. And after a moment of consideration,  _ clickclickclickclickclickclick _ . 

Mukuro was absorbed in a trashy war novel when she noticed a presence looming above her. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was, only one person in this Hope’s Peak wore heels. Licking her fingers, she flipped the page. 

“...would you like to sit down?”

Celeste says nothing, instead opting to pull out a seat in a ruffle of fabric. They both sat in silence, Celeste fiddling with something on her “ring” as Mukuro continued reading. They had just uncovered the double agent. With a frown, the soldier flipped forward a few pages. She didn’t need to read that section. She already knew everything there was to know about betrayal.

“...You were always alone, back at school, hm?” The silence was cut through with a painfully phony French accent, like a dull knife in a cut of meat. Maybe her classmates fell for it, but not Mukuro. She’d traveled the world and back again, globetrotting across every part of this land. And that voice, the one “Celeste” put on right now, was not music to her ears.

Mukuro did not bother looking up. “I was not the only one, was I, Taeko-chan?” 

Celeste blushed a scarlet red out of embarrassment, no powder or foundation to conceal her genuine emotions. Frantically, the gambler responded, her accent breaking in the frenzy. “Well I don’t know why. You have always been a lovely girl, and your features are pleasant.  _...ahem _ ,  _ aesthetics will get you everywhere in life, mon amie~” _

To that, Mukuro snorted, flipping a page for emphasis. She was barely even skimming at this point, only absorbed about every fourth sentence. It didn’t matter. Every book like this was the exact, down to the formulaic play-by-plays. 

“You forget my sister is, like, an actual supermodel. Compared to her I’m a literal cow-”

“That may be so...” Celeste cut her off, her expression serious all of a sudden. She leaned in as if whatever she was about to say was the most important idea ever presented. “...but cowhide is trendy this year.”

Mukuro finally looks up, slightly taken aback by the sentiment. And Celeste returns her stare, too equally intense individuals, for a moment, existing on the same wavelength. A moment longer and then, Mukuro shifts her weight, uncomfortable by the sudden amount of emphasis placed on her. With that, the paths diverge. 

Celeste nods warily, taking the cue to move on. Her point was made. It seemed to her that Mukuro took it. What she would do now is up to her.

“...do you...do you regret what you did?” 

A weak smile graced Mukuro’s face as she pushed the book to the side. “I think I do. Do you?”

Celeste shrugs before resting her head on folded hands. “I regret my actions. And I regret the consequences, for both me and the others. But…” 

Her voice trails off, almost wistfully. When she returns, her timbre was plain, with no lilted accent or nasally speech. 

“But I do not regret being free,” the gambler replied a sense of finality in the statement. Almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was Mukuro. “I had nothing to lose but my chains, and they have now been shed. Even if this is not how we planned, this is freedom, is it not?”

Grey eyes wandered upwards, glancing at a monitor, glancing at what used to represent her sister’s ever-watchful eye—ever controlling grip. Mukuro smiled at nothing in particular. 

“Yes. I do believe it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get i?t get the pun? get it get it get it?
> 
> also ive decided to start drafting my next fanfic series. full spoilers - its the thh/sdr2 mobster au. oh boy. oh boy im so excited. oh lord its gonna be fun. 
> 
> its my goal to finish this series by the end of the month and hopefully that series b4 school gets too serious. as ive said before, college. i cant rlly do like. big series during college guys. so lets get this done AS WE CAN.
> 
> by no means is this ALL the redemption taeko gets. she's got a ways to go. but it's a start.


	10. add 'em to the list

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hifumi be like waddle waddle waddle screech

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey btw im nixing the use of honorifics and name order. i have tried rlly hard to do research and make it as authentic as possible (like prob hours at this point) but even then i just don't feel comfortable enough to write in that style. i don't want to goof up. from this point on, just gonna cut that feature out. i don't think that will be a make-or-break for ppl but ya that's something i wanted to lyk. apologies if i've messed up to this point

Things were easier with Taka around. Though the fire in his belly had all but burned out, the former prefect brought much-needed order to their lives. Well, maybe it was the other way around - order was a necessary evil if anyone wanted to see Ishimaru get better. 

Jin had mentioned something in passing about how his condition might never completely recover, even with the ample time now on their hands. Time can heal all wounds, but his deteriorated state was a completely different scenario. No one wanted to say it, but the combination of the path he was heading down and the neglect others were showing, there was a good chance he would have ended up here either way. It was the thought in the back of all their minds. 

The former members of Class 78 all held there only opinions on the scenario, albeit they all followed the same line. How could someone just not care about their a classmate? About their friend? Mondo was naturally the most defensive of Taka’s case, having the most invested in the matter, followed closely by Chihiro. Mukuro avoided the subject matter, seeing herself as part of the problem instead of the solution. 

Leon and Sayaka, meanwhile, were unsure how to feel. They understood how Junko’s mindwipe fundamentally changed the dynamic of their class relationship. It is easy to sacrifice a life if you were strangers. Looking back now, of course, their former friends seemed selfish for letting him deteriorate like that. But in a life or death scenario, it wasn’t uncharacteristic to make a sacrifice-

By no means did that make it acceptable behavior. But the pair understood. Maybe better than anyone. 

Kiyotaka did not say much. There wasn’t anything to say. No rules were being broken. No morals to be chastised. It is not becoming to speak without reason, so he chose to hold his tongue. When asked a question, he’d reply, short and courteous, always with a smile. Always faked. But no, he did not start conversations-

Not like he was a social butterfly before, either. He didn’t have friends. He’d never had friends. Well, that’s not true, he had friends at Hope’s Peak, the real Hope’s Peak, the Hope’s Peak he once knew and loved. He had friends now. 

But that middle ground left everything feeling hazy, and there was no denying his social ineptitude. Why would anyone spend time with him? He cared enough for the rest of them, and yet it always read as overbearing. He  _ was _ overbearing, and oppressive, insufferable, and inconsiderate, and-

The steadying feeling of a hand running through his hair pulled Kiyotaka back into reality. The room was quiet, filled with the sound of electronic  _ pews _ and steady breathing. He turned his head upwards slightly, looking up from his boyfriend’s chest. Mondo returned his gaze, expression unreadable but maybe in his furrowed brow, a hint of worry. Taka tried giving him a reassuring smile. It didn’t work. 

Looking back at the room, Kiyotaka Ishimaru took an assessment of his space. Chihiro was lying on the floor playing a video game (Space Invaders, maybe?) Next to him, a bowl of popcorn. Glancing to the left, there was a magazine rack. To the right, a plant. The plush feeling of fabric against his legs and back reminded Taka that yes, the couple was sitting on a couch. Above them, fluorescent lights, currently powered down. The glow of the television screen lit the room. 

It was odd, wearing casual clothes. Mondo insisted that he leave the uniform well enough alone, it would call back too many bad memories, but without it, Taka felt naked. For so many years, he was defined by his academic successes and upright behavior. Hell, the reason he was accepted to Hope’s Peak was for his abilities as a star student. Who was he without his badge? Who was he without his little notebook and detention slips? A scared boy from a long line of failures. Maybe his place here in the afterlife affirmed that-

“Quit it-”

Mondo slid his hand from his boyfriend’s hair downwards, tracing the outline of his face. Taking his boyfriend’s chin in his hand, he tilted Kiyotaka’s face upward. 

“Hey, look at me--you’re doing it again. Get out of your head, dipshit.” Ishimaru smiled, and it was genuine this time. Small, but real. Only Mondo Oowada could make an insult romantic. And that’s one of the millions of reasons he loved him. Nodding, he placed his head back down on the chest, and the hand made it’s way back to its rightful place. 

Things were right. Things were incredibly, incredibly wrong. But sitting here, things were right. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Mondo saw a distinct waddle pass by the games room doorway. They kept the doors open, as a way to establish trust, but the act made it difficult to sneak around. Not like they should be sneaking around anymore, anyways, but sometimes there’s people you want to avoid. 

Like the Ultimate Dojin, for example, really wanted to avoid anything and anyone remotely connected to his murder victim, and yet here he was, being called out by his angry biker man boyfriend. That’s the issue. Those three had taken over the games room, and there was no conspicuous way of getting to his beloved art studio without passing by. 

Why was Chihiro spending so much time with the pair, anyways? They had been friends at school, yes, but any reasonable person would avoid their murderer like the plague, yet Kiyotaka put them both at ease. How could Kiyotaka put anyone at ease, he was so loud and annoying and controlling about Alter-Ego and-

At least, that’s what Hifumi told himself to absolve his guilt. And yet both murder-victim pairs before him seemed to be getting along fine, as fine as you can, given the circumstances. It broke any theory he tried to tell himself. It broke his resolve. 

The Alpha and the Omega swallowed the too-big bite he had taken and doubled back, bracing himself for another barrage of insults. At least nothing was personal. Mondo could call him a piece of shit mother fucker from now to eternity, but nothing cut like the snide remarks of Miss Ludenberg. He could just...blank out for a few minutes. Right. That works. It always does. 

And so Hifumi stood there like an idiot as Mondo reared himself to give the swirly of a lifetime...only to be pulled back by Kiyotaka. He may not have halls to monitor, but he still believes in moral behavior. Mondo made a note to give the dweeb a swirly on his own time. Didn’t mean he didn’t have something to say about it.

“You! Yeah, you. You fetishized his robot consciousness. Got anything to say about that, piece of shit?” Mondo eased himself back, going for a cooler approach.

“...?” Hifumi had nothing to say, merely tilting his head to the side. Chihiro was equally confused, pausing his game to look up at the biker. Meanwhile, Mondo sat there, nodding to himself, incredibly proud of the roast of a lifetime. Take that shits-for-brains. 

Chihiro put down his controller and shuffled around, gently placing his hand on Mondo’s foot. He gave it a  _ pat pat.  _

“A little confused, but you have the right idea.”

The biker looked down. What do you mean, “confused?” That’s what happened, right? He saw it on the monitors and everything. Mr. Manga got a total hard-on for glorified Siri and misgendered the shit out of a dead boy’s robo-conscious. What else is there to explain? Shaking his head, he settled back with a grumble. 

Hifumi swallowed, face-to-face with the person (no, boy) that he had a one-sided “whirlwind relationship” with over the course of about a week. He hadn’t...really thought about it like that. He hadn’t really thought at all…

“Y-you mean that-”

Chihiro nods.

“And th-that I-”

Chihiro nods again.

“And she wasn’t-”

“No, Hifumi, it was not ‘in love’ with you.”

“And it certainly wasn’t a ‘she,’ either..” Taka chimed in, maybe the first time they had spoken... _ at  _ each other since their near-simultaneous arrival in the afterlife. 

….oh. He’d had to add Chihiro to the unofficial list of people to avoid. It’s growing longer by the day. 

Hifumi nods, comprehending all this new information before screeching out an apology, bowing a couple of times for good measure, before waddling towards his beloved art room. The trio watches as he sees himself out, a mix of confusion and befuddled amusement. With a shake of his head, Chihiro picks up his controller and resumes his game, the rooms filled with tingling  _ pews _ once again.

Using the lull in the conversation, Taka readjusts himself, this time nuzzling against his boyfriend’s side, gently placing his head on Mondo’s shoulder. 

“I can’t believe you let that jackass kill you, babe…” Mondo grumbled, wrapping his arm around the smaller man. “If I was still around he woulda-”

Taka shushes him with a kiss. That shuts him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw im starting an elaborate mob!au for thh and sdr2 u can find it on my page its called the hand that rocks the cradle rocks the boat. im v excited for it. tbh im nervous that like. the twists and stuff will come too fast and it will be too fast paced. but like. its also free literature LMAO. ya i would rlly like it if u guys read that. be aware tho - it is a proper mob story and wll be portraying unhealthier behavior/relationships. plz don't read if u will be uncomfy!!!! ok that is all promo over ily


	11. the adam and eve of shithead backstabbing murderers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter. that inspired the entire thh!afterlife au. this is the chapter i wrote first, and i've revisited a thousand times over. its inspired by every piece and interpretation of thh media (bc ya know, psychic) but as ive said before, this series is influenced heavily by the manga. if you don't agree with the manga...dont bother telling me i seriously don't care aldksfajsdfa it was written and approved by kodaka as a good supplement to thh like. take it. bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is the one ive put the most thought into and probably. means the most to me in the series. its this one and then the epilogue that are the most important to me i think. then the others are vibin. but this one and the epilogue be hitting different.

Polar opposites stand alone, nervously waiting with the same goal in mind. Their classmates notice but don’t approach. They all know someone’s coming. That the inevitable is near. Alone together, Leon and Sayaka have the chance to talk it out.

“This is beyond fucked”

“Hm?” Sayaka looks over, tilting her head in question. Her long blue hair falls to the side, a light breeze blowing strands in the wind. 

Leon didn’t know what to say at first. He couldn’t word it. How could you? Maybe if he paid more attention in class, he’d have, like, the metaphor or literary reference he needed. Were there books out there about having to introduce your friends/murder-game-compatriots-who-voted-for-your-execution-in-cold-blood to the afterlife alongside the girl you accidental-murdered after she tried to kill you? Hell of a niche, if so. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he decided to verbalize anyways.

“You know. This.” Awesome job, buddy.

Both stand silently, watching the gates, watching for something they never wanted to deal with again. Every time they hoped it would be the last. Maybe this time, it would be. Then all of a sudden, Leon turned back to ask, “Why me?” which makes Sayaka take a pause. 

“...in the simplest terms, it’s because I thought you had a crush-” (Leon scoffs, loudly adjusting his pleather as a way of saying  _ No-I-totally-did-not-and-even-if-I-did-I-wouldn’t-tell-you-now _ ) 

“-but on a more metaphysical, it’s us. It’s always us. Every reality I can see-”

“….a-always?”

“Almost always, yes.”

“... _ and the exception?!”  _

Sayaka hums, readjusting her sash. She didn’t need to wear it anymore. Her stab wound healed weeks ago. There was nothing to hold in. Still, the slight pressure made her feel grounded. She spoke without looking over, too busy fiddling with the sash. 

“One time one of us kills Kirigiri”

Her answer left him stunned. “Fuck, the detective? Really?!”

“I know it’s hard for me to believe, too…” Her voice trailed off, leaving Leon with on a cliffhanger. He waited a few seconds for her to continue the statement, but Sayaka said nothing, too focused on re-tying her bow with the perfect boxy middle. She hummed to herself in thought, a little ditty from her pop star days. After maybe another minute of waiting, he yanked his hands out of his pockets, waving them around for emphasis- 

“ _...Well, which one!?!” _

“Hm?” Sayaka had drifted off into space. “Oh! That’s hard to say. For some reason, it depends on our relationship with Makoto- 

“That fucking dweeb?”

“Language-” Blue eyes met bluer. One narrowed. The other stayed perfectly still, doe-eyed and earnest.  _ Well, no wonder their classmates voted for him _ , Leon thought to himself. Which one were you more likely to trust?

“As I was saying, the murder was between one of us, so I guess we’re a pair.” Her hands let go of the ribbon, letting it flop down to her side. The way the sunlight danced off her too-pale skin made her look almost transparent. That was his fault. A sudden wave of guilt overcame him, the same wave of guilt he felt every time he saw her, and he turned away.

“There’s a few other timelines, yes. One where we give up our talents-” ( _ Oh, swag _ , Leon thought to himself)” and then one where we’re still trapped, and we all court Makoto for our affection” ( _ I was kidding about him playing hero, but this shit’s ridiculous…) _ “-I know I don’t get it either-” ( _ whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck)  _ “Psychic, remember? Language.” ( _ oh yea, sorry, Sayaka…)  _

and then, silence. 

“Did you like him?” Leon asked, aiming his foot to kick a piece of gravel through the gate. Swinging it back, then forth, it made contact with the rock. Perfect shot. He still had it. 

Sayaka licks her lips and says, “On some fundamental level, I must have-”

“But you betrayed him,” Leon counters, gearing him for another shot. 

“I know.”

“And you betrayed me.” Kick. 

“I know, every time.”

……..

Sayaka turns to Leon and looks him in the eyes, and again, he chooses to look away. “There’s one world, just one, where I do kill you. It’s the one where I didn’t convince Makoto to bring home the sword, so you had nothing to defend yourself. B-but as soon as you were dead, I realized just how flawed my plan was. Sure, you were in Makoto’s room, but I was covered in your blood with no clever way to dispose of the evidence. I couldn’t throw things into the incinerator like you. With Makoto sleeping, I couldn’t grab a change of clothes or stash a weapon, a-and I had Sakura and Hina both as witnesses against my case, it was practically a confession. Makoto didn’t stand up for me. How could he, after he learned the blackened rules?” 

Leon stared at the ground for a long time, his ice-blue eyes filled with something like disgust. Jesus Christ, he could’ve told her that! Her plan was full of holes, every hole in the book. How he even remotely scraped, he had no idea. It’s not like she left much for him to work with. Turning, the baseball player looks her up and down, his icy gaze burning into her very existence with something best described as ‘hate.’ 

And he asks, rather coldly, “How’d you go?” Sayaka stares back at him a little stunned by the cutting remark, though it was to be expected. It was her fault they were in this mess. Behind all their amicable facades and yes, maybe even true friendship at this point, deep down, she knew Leon hated her for everything she put them through. She looks forward, her eyes welling up with tears. 

“I-I was standing on a bear trap. It was...like a karaoke contest where I was singing for my life, and I was standing on a bear trap, desperately trying to survive. I was... _ so close _ but in the end, Monokuma- ...Junko cut the mic. So I failed. I was snapped in half before I could even register what was going on.”

With a sigh, Leon crouched to the ground. He coudln’t process this standing up. This was all...too much to take in. How the hell did she does every day? Being psychic’s gotta suck. Closing his eyes, he shoved his head between his knees. 

“God I was so lucky.”

Sayaka was stunned. She tried to make a few false starts, stumbling over her words, but eventually, Leon held a hand up towards her, queuing her to hush it. 

“Whatever they did, they did it wrong. Thematic? Sure. But after the first, like, ten seconds, all the pain fades into a dull thud, and it’s like...an out-of-body experience. It’s like….now? I guess?”

He looked back over towards her, leaning over just a tad. “Now if I told Junko that, you know she’d like, shit her pants or something.” Sayaka snorted, before quickly reaching to cover her mouth for such an unbecoming noise. He couldn’t help but snicker at her embarrassment. They were still friends. Maybe. He hoped, at least. 

And the snickering died down, leaving the two of them at the gates. His eyes were wet, welling tears. “I saw it in those final moments. Like...everything that happened. Our class. The tragedy. The time we missed. In those last moments, I understood total betrayal. Like don’t get me wrong, I felt betrayal when those…” hands waved around again before shoving his head back down, covering himself with his arms. “...when those shitheads voted for me to kick it. But yeah, no, I felt something different when I figured out what that bimbo bitch did to us.”

“And fuck man- Sayaka, I saw us. Are we just ignoring that elephant in the room?” His voice was muffled layers of fabric, but she still made out what he said, clear as day. And suddenly, he jerked up, staring wildly into her eye. Without seemingly noticing, Leon had streams of tears running down his cheeks. 

“We were a thing. A high school thing, a simple thing, a thing that ended and we could stay friends and joke about,  _ Hey remember when we dated? Gross, right? _ , but I really liked you. As much as a stupid fucking punkass could. You’re the one who helped inspire me to like, express myself, and I changed my whole…my whole thing for, y’ know? And I fucking- I f-fucking-” 

Before he could finish his sentence, Leon shoved his head into his legs and screamed, or maybe it was wailed. He couldn’t word it. He could never ever word it. But he could vocalize, only way he knew how.

Sayaka was unsure what to do in this situation, but something inside her softened. They were Kids. Murderers. Victims. But kids. She kneels next to him, and, unsure what to do with her hands, tries gently brushing his back. Her first instinct is to try humming quietly to him...which only makes him cry harder. 

After a moment of panicking, she finally sits down, slumping all of her weight on him, feeling her tears well. 

“I-it was a mistake, Leon. it was all my fault...you...y-you were trying to reason with me and if I-” 

“Christ, Sayaka, I know that!” He threw his arms in the air, causing Sayaka to lose her balance. “But it doesn’t make it better.”

Silence, and then the arms fall back down, drained. Defeated. After a moment’s pause, she leans her head on his shoulder. Leon glances at her and then looks forward again, his voice set. 

“We were a thing once, but we aren’t doin’ it again. I don’t feel those things anymore. It’s like…looking at a TV. I know those feelings were felt, but honestly? It doesn’t even seem like me.”

Sayaka nodded, breathing in iron and pot and the smell of blueberry perfume. He was right. Not ever again. 

Without notice, he jolted up again, causing her to flinch. He always moved like that. Sluggish then skittery, tired then frantic. Like a trapped animal, full of desperation and fear. 

“Why us? Why are we the fucking… Adam and Eve of shithead backstabbing murderers?” He stares wildly into her eyes, begging for an answer, but there is none. “You’re psychic! Y-ou’ve always been psychic, that’s why you can see this shit now, do you know?”

…

“... _ do you know, Sayaka-” _

And she finally responds with a desperate, “No. not until the moments before it happened, before I saw you take my life.  _ That’s when I knew, but what could I do then?! _ ” 

“Jesus, is there a reality where I don’t kill you?” Nothing. Nothing. Sayaka is clutching her arms closer at this point, dry heaving. Trying to calm herself down and desperately failing. Leon pushes her off of him and frantically scoots away from her muttering  _ Jesus Christ _ before standing up and pointing at her:

“You’re fucking insane!”

“I was so afraid of losing my friends, my future- my- my-” 

“You framed Makoto and made me kill you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry”

“Do you know what this fucking does to a person?” Leon tries to shove his hands in his pockets, but he can’t, he has too much frantic energy. He keeps missing like a goddamned idiot, and eventually, he gives up, punching the air a few times. “Do you fucking know what it does to you? To put a knife in someone else? To feel their life leave their body under your own fucking hands I didn’t fucking mean to! You of all people know I didn’t mean to if you just  _ stayed still it would have never happened, not once not a  _ **thousand** times over-” 

Sayaka is wheezing, tears crusting her face. He should stop yelling. He was making this worse. But what if he wanted to make it worse? What if he wanted her to feel a second of the panic he went through for the twenty-four hours from hell? What if he wanted her to suffer, just once. She died out. He did too. Even the playing field for all the other trauma, why don’t ya?

“I’m sorry-”

“-bullshit-”

“-but whatever could have happened, it doesn’t matter. This is it. This is our play. This is our end scene and this stupid…job we were assigned is our curtain call-”

“They’re dead, Sayaka! Your industry, your crew, your managers, your makeup department, your tour managers, all of em! They’re all dead.”

“ _ stop it- _ ”

“-nothing you did, nothing you could have done, would have mattered-”

“-Leon, s-stop it-” 

“Jesus you couldn’t even kill me right!”

…

“You couldn’t even win a stupid fucking trial-”

She slaps him, hard, before pulling back into herself, the same scared girl in the bathroom. He went too far. Fuck, he went too far. Leon stares at her, horrified by his actions. Horrified by who they had become. Maybe Junko never needed to push the envelope. Maybe this was just...them. 

Of course his classmates voted him guilty. Who would you believe? 

Having calmed herself down enough, Sayaka glances up, giving him what might have passed for a smile, if he hadn’t known better. “At least you had enough sense to try and stop me.” 

Swallowing audibly, the baseball player turned, walking away. Hands shoved into his coat, desperately grabbing at the inside fabric. Sayaka desperately climbs to her feet, scrambling after him, but he only moves faster. 

“Where are you going? We have to wait for Sakura.” 

Leon simply shakes his head. 

“I gotta...I gotta go throw up or something. I got some shit to work out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got fuckin leon kuwata BRAIN ROT. anyways plz read my new fic series im writing its a mob au its called "the hand that rocks the cradle rocks the boat" also if u ever make any media inspired by this series plz tag me i would love to see uwu. i hardcore dont ship leosaya but i do acknowledge they prob would've been a cute hs couple but the way things ended up...nah. their dynamic is super interesting tho. at every step of the way they were created as a pair of foils. dang my dudes.
> 
> leosaya? broke. their new shipname is the adam and eve of shithead backstabbing murderers
> 
> btw we're like. at the 2/3rds mark i think? yay. im glad u guys like this series im always so glad to see the support this gets.


	12. INTERLUDE: and one more thing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an interlude. This doesn’t actually take place in the fic, but I wanted to write a little Drabble based off an idea I established last chapter with “Sayaka is psychic and sees all” and also the whole idea of Leon and Sayaka ALWAYS being a pair of doomed foils anyways enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rlly like to believe she’s a legit psychic it makes her a lot more fun of a character. Anyways enjoy

“Leon, there’s one reality I can’t explain,” Sayaka said as she twiddled her thumbs. Leon glances over, his interest piqued.   
  
“ _....yeah, and?_ ”

“And it’s weird! I mean it’s not us but totally is, you know?”

“I really don’t, bud.”

“Oh...well hm.” With a pause Sayaka thought of the best way to describe this alternative universe she has seen in her preeminitions. “Well, it’s us as a duo again.”

Leon nodded. “That’s a given now, yes.”

“And I still have blue hair-“

“You would look weird with any other color-“

“-well like I said it’s not us but it kind of is aNYWAys I think I’d look good with pink-“

“-maybe a soft pink but nothing neon-“

“-no, nothing neon **I DIGRESS!!** ” Sayaka waved her hands around, returning back to the subject.

“I was me, kind of. Still quiet and nice. But you were NOT you...”

They looked at each other for a beat, blue meeting bluer. Leon glanced to the side before looking back, eyes meeting again. Reluctantly, he shrugs. 

“....ok?”

“No, Leon, you don’t get it-“ Sayaka doubled down, leaning in for emphasis. “ _You weren’t you-_ “

“Y- you’re freakin’ me out man, I have no idea what that means...”  
  
“Like! ...like you had blue hair! But darker than mine, almost black? Maybe a little teal?” 

The baseball player scrunched up his nose, miming a gag. “ew wtf”

“And you were an anxious mess-“

“lol no”

“AND you were the protagonist, kind of-“  
  
“he-hey I liked to think I was kind of a protagonist-“

“We died first trial- _.... well-_ “  
  
“‘... _Well’_ what?”

“Never mind, maybe you have a point... But most importantly, you were the Ultimate Detective.”

 _The Ultimate Detective. Wasn’t that Kirigiri’s thing?_ Leon had to ask-

“The Ultimate Detective. Wasn’t that Kirigiri’s thing?”

“Well that’s the real question of the hour!” Sayaka exclaimed, folding her hands under her face. She leaned to the side, gently squishing up her cheek. “You were the Ultimate Detective inspired by Kirigiri”

“That doesn’t make sense because I’m, like, not smart-“

“No...” she said dreamily. “You’re really not.” Leon shuffled his weight. He didn’t like that. 

“...ok, well...Anything else?”

“Oh yes, tons~ I have no idea what this universe was on because it seemed like a plot twist a second, but I think it was all staged? Like it was a television show....inspired by our Killing Game......”  
  
“ **EW WHAT THE FUCK THAT’S SO FUCKING STUPID-** “

“Language! But also yes, I agree-“

“ **WHO WOULD EVER WANT TO PLAN SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!??** ”

“....”

“...Sayaka.....?” Leon’s voice softened in a rather incredulous way. Nothing.   
  
“ _Sayaka, Jesus Chri-_ “

“ _....it was all my fault-_ “ A quiet voice cut him off, so full of regret for a crime she didn’t commit. “ _And you, Leon- ...you all killed me again._ ”   
  
Or maybe she did commit, in a different universe. What was it like to hold the knowledge and guilt of a thousand betrayals, over and over and over again? Leon did not know. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. Together they sat in silence, contemplating what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea I’ll update for real later I’ve been rlly busy with cosplay stuff kinda out of it but ya expect legit updates later on today.


	13. i am here so she is not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sakura ogami arrives to the party, can i get an f in the chat

Sakura Ogami arrives about an hour later, much to the surprise of everyone. Everyone but Sayaka and Mukuro, who had become fast friends during their time together. Early deaths and an excess of testosterone (that is, until Taeko’s arrival) brought the two together. While their relationship confused some of the others, they remained fast friends. 

Still, the knowing glance the two shared seemed tense. Sayaka knew about Sakura’s plan, but why did Mukuro? Something about it all felt off, and at that moment, the former idol was forced to reckon with her best-friend-for-death’s true nature in this killing game. 

The former martial artist walks through the gates with a limp, rubbing at the back of her head. As she looked around, Sayaka saw the way blood dried on the back of her hair, hot pink against snow white. Did this make, what, death number...four from blunt force trauma? Five if you count Kuwata? Still, a knock to the head didn’t match out the note she had left...the note Sayaka and Leon had read hours earlier, with Jin’s permission, of course. 

_ Where was Leon, anyways? _ The pop sensation had to wonder. The last she saw was a bolt of fiery red hair heading in the opposite direction, but where could he have gone off to? They had a job to do. They had to see it through. Didn’t he know how selfish he was being, storming off like that? Doesn’t he realize this was the last thing she wanted to do, too? 

And now she was left to face Sakura Ogami’s suicide alone, forced to face mortality head-on for the second time this morning. 

Sayaka’s train of thought was cut off by the sounding of heavy coughing. A sound they would grow quite accustomed to over the next few weeks, and over the new eternity—something Sakura would do quite often. 

The martial artist is keeled over, someone so strong taken down by the tickle of the throat. No, that’s not right...by suffocation. There is blood in her mouth. There will always be blood in her mouth. There will always be blood on her hands, even if it is her own. With a heavy sigh, Sakura gathers all of her power amassed over years of training, and barely pushes herself up. She felt tired. She felt so tired. 

The  _ pop _ of vertebrate brought some relief, cracking her back after hours of sitting hunched over. How long was she out? Long enough to think about everything, every sin she committed, and every promise she couldn’t keep. But a tinkling voice pulls Sakura out of oblivion before she began to spiral. A familiar face runs up to her. A girl killed much too soon. Her eyes are red from crying, but she still greets with a wave and an empty smile. 

“Sakura! Sakura!” Sayaka Maizono calls out, giving her a small bow in respect. “Welcome to your afterlife.”

Sakura looked upon her, her expression stoic, but her eyes were clouded with doubt. The afterlife...with Maizono? That means she was not damned, but...that cannot be right. Not after her betrayal. Not after her crimes-

But as she looked around, she noticed her classmates, blackened and victim alike. Some she had not seen for a long time, and some died only days earlier. Fujisaki and Oowada and Ishimaru and Yamada and yes, even Yasuhiro. In the distance, Kuwata, purposefully separating himself from the group ( _ Why?  _ She wondered…)

And her headmaster. Her former headmaster. How could she forget about him? Sakura felt something like tears well at her eyes. With a hard swallow, Sakura tried to steady her breathing.  _ In. Out. In. Out.  _

“I am...sorry to see you here,” Sakura began, her body turned towards Sayaka, yet her eyes trained on the crowd. “But I am glad you are well. All of you.”

Without another word, Sayaka went in for a hug. And while Sakura froze upon contact, her stance softened with time and adjustment. This was something Aoi would do, the cuddle bug. Her cuddle bug…

Sakura felt herself melt, all of the walls she had thrown up during her personal nightmare coming crashing down. And while she did not permit herself any hooting or hollering, there were streams of tears running down her face. No man is an island. And in the arms of her former classmate- ... _ no, Aoi would say,  _ **_friend_ ** _ … _ Sakura Ogami cried.

\-----------------

“Jesus, what the hell happened to ya back there?”

After greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, Class 78 whisked Sakura away towards the infirmary, somewhere she could adequately rest. She was faring much better than the last round of deaths, but her physical exhaustion concerned the class as a whole. There was something wrong about seeing her so weak. Human life was never supposed to be this fragile.

“Mondo, language-” Kiyotaka waved one hand in the general direction of his boyfriend but kept his attention focused on Sakura. He was the only one in the current, former group with any relevant first-aid experience. His hands quickly wrapped gauze around her forehead, just as Taka had done for himself. “But I can’t say I don’t agree with the sentiment…”

Sakura chuckled. “A lot of things…”

“But Miss Ogami, you cannot tell me you really offed your-  _ HEY!! _ ” Hifumi yelped, feeling a heel dig into his foot before he could finish his incredibly-valid and thoughtfully-worded question. Taeko shot him a glare. He shot one back. No one felt particularly comfortable with her integrated with the group, not yet at least...but they weren’t about to leave a classmate out of someone’s arrival-

...well. That’s what they told themselves. And yet the group all pretended to ignore the shadow hanging in the back of the room, leaning against the doorway. Mukuro Ikusaba was a classmate. And yes, she was just as much of a victim as the rest of them. But she was a league of her own. 

It was foolish to believe Sakura would not notice the girl standing behind, an unreadable expression on her face (like always.) And yet, to everyone’s surprise, the martial artist recognized her immediately. “How” was the question, as they had collectively been mindwiped for Junko’s scheme. And yet the moment the two warriors’ eyes met, Sakura pushed herself out of her seat, struggling against Kiyotaka’s protests. 

As soon as she was up, Sakura lunged forward, not as fast as she could before, but still quick as a bullet. Mukuro caught the martial artist’s hands in her own, the force of acceleration causing her to skid back a few inches. They struggled against each other, neither girl fighting at their best. Death left them weak. That fact left each frustrated. 

“G-good to see another traitor in these parts,” Mukuro huffed, pushing forward with her weight. What she lacked in horsepower she made up for in strategy and skill. Still, the fact she could not die twice was a great comfort to her.

“Tr-traitor?” Chihiro asked, feeling himself shrink back into himself. It was a cowardly habit that he hated, one he thought he’d dropped and yet seemed to fall back into time and time again. One that left him feeling weak, weak, weak. 

“Wouldn’t you figure?” Mukuro said, her eyes locked with Ogami’s. “The Despair Sisters were able to bl- _ugh_ **blackmail** her onto her side. I was sad, honestly--I was looking forward to your execution.” 

Sounds of disgust filled the background, proving all of her classmates right about her. Maybe not completely, but there was no doubt in their minds which side Mukuro had initially been on. But Sakura Ogami, the Ultimate Martial Artist? Always so steady and sound?

The warrior gave a single nod in response, her expression firm. “That may be true, Ikusaba, but look how well this all turned out for you.”

With that, Mukuro narrowed her eyes only to smile, abruptly letting go of Sakura’s hands. The martial artist stumbled forward, but not before pulling Ikusaba down with her. The pair tumbled downward, landing hard against the linoleum floor. Their classmates winced. A fall like that would hurt anyone, but someone who just died a slow and agonizing death? They couldn’t imagine…

Sakura stared down at Mukuro, placing all of her weight on the squirming body below. She did her best to hide her pain, but her labored breaths revealed just how much the poison had weakened her body. Still, even after two concussions and a weakened physical state, Sakura quickly overpowered her opponent. Mukuro may have the training, but in this case, brute strength was the winner of the day. 

“A weakness of will, perhaps, but nothing I chose to act upon,” Sakura said, leaning her face closer to Mukuro’s. There was the sound of swishing, and then something wet hit her eye. Spit. Mukuro Ikusaba had spit at her. With a sigh, the martial artist reached up, brushing the glob away. “The only person who was hurt was me.”

With one last desperate retort, Mukuro called upon the power of every insult and disparaging word her twin sister had ever thrown her way. “Y-yea?” She stuttered, still so new to this. “I think you hurt your girlfriend, plen-  _ ah!” _

“The nature of our relationship does not matter,” Sakura said, pushing her entire weight upon the soldier’s body. “I betrayed her, but only so I could thwart  _ your-” _ (she pressed down again, this time rendering a whimper from Mukuro…) “ **_plan._ ** ”

Pressing down one last time for good measure, Sakura stood up and dusted herself off. Kiyotaka rushed to her side once more, quietly scolding as he checked her wound. Everyone gathered around the martial artist again, leaving Mukuro alone, stranded on the floor with nothing but her thoughts. 

After a few minutes of being stuck in the limbo known as isolation around others, Mukuro finally had to ask,  _ Why? _ to which Sakura replied: 

“I am here so she is not. You, Ikusaba, cannot say the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry for the delay in posting, i just got involved with two fangan tags and one yttd tag so i am uhhh distracted. its ok tho! also fun fact, im gonna be collecting some of the interactions/trials from the tags and might be posting them on my ao3 as a story-form version of the fangans. it'll be fun. i always love reading fangans and idk it just seemed like a fun way to archive. get ready to stan.


	14. this day had come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everybody say hi to daiya (hi daiya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt proofread this one i just threw it in grammarly and posted on a hope and a prayer, god bless

Hypothetically the former Class 78 understood that there was a whole universe outside of Hope’s Peak, filled with infinite amounts of possibilities and endless numbers of deaths. This universe grew just a little bit bigger when the Tragedy occurred at a rate no one was expecting. It was a reality they could face any day.

And yet no one really believed it, not really. They didn’t want to believe it. To believe their family and friends could be dead, their schoolmates having met the same fate. This version of Hope’s Peak was an oasis, the calm in the storm that is their mortal reckoning. For better or for worse, it was now home. 

But one day they would have to leave home. They didn’t have to, Jin reassured the class, but when you have recovered, you’re welcome to come and go as you please. Some took the news better than others. Celeste had been making her departure plans for weeks, excited to meet the late philosophers and artists and great thinkers of Europe. And Hifumi, similarly, was excited to meet early mangakas, the ones who created the art form by hand. Even Sayaka had been making plans, conceptualizing her big “reunion tour” of the afterlife. 

For all the frenzied conversations their class had, excited to make plans and explore the world untethered, Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Mondo Oowada never had a word to contribute. It wasn’t that they adored Hope’s Peak, (well, maybe that’s the case for one but not the other…) But where would they go? 

Taka had not heard any word about his grandfather’s presence, and in all honesty, he wondered if he was damned to the void. The thought made him...he wasn’t sure what he felt, in all honesty, but the memory of the late Toranosuke made him feel antsy. There were hundreds of thousands of people in the afterlife who only knew the Ishimaru name for the prime minister’s sins. Kiyotaka was not ready to place the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He was only a kid. A kid with a strong work ethic and a sound moral compass, but a kid nonetheless. 

He’d spent so much time since his death trying to remember that, trying to capture a lost childhood. It would be a shame if all of that progress were loss. 

And Mondo...Mondo _never_ wanted to talk about it. It was an unspoken elephant in the room. Three men who he considered his brothers, two by the covenant, one by the womb. Mondo Oowada, indicted with fratricide. Always unintentional. Always killed.

His brother was dead, and his gang was in ruins, and a good number of his boys had most likely died fighting the good fight, and that didn’t make him feel better. He killed Chihiro for nothing. He killed _Taka_ for nothing. And maybe yes, he had more reason than anyone to leave, to return to his post as the Crazy Diamond’s leader, but he couldn’t bring himself to it. Call him weak. Maybe he was. 

Maybe he was. 

It was the day after Sakura’s arrival when a constant noise shook Hope’s Peak to its core. The sound of a stampede. The cry of bloody murder. Mondo knew it too well, and while the rumble of his motor once brought him a sense of purpose, right now, it honestly made him want to pee his pants. Because that was not just any motorbike pulling up to the pearly gates, but one he knew too well. One that screamed that fateful night, skidding out of control on wet concrete, flying head-first into a tractor-trailer. 

Daiya Oowada. God bless his soul.

Daiya was everything Mondo ever wanted to be. Charismatic. Confident. Boisterous. Respected. Hell, maybe even feared. His presence demanded your attention, shiny and new. If you stare too long, your eyes might work from the glow of his jacket and blinding white teeth. He knew how to style his hair. He knew how to woo the ladies. He knew how to handle a room and get people to _shut up when I’m talkin’, ya hear?_

He didn’t need to swear for respect. He didn’t need to fight for respect. He just had it. The man earned it. And Mondo was always the stupid kid brother, a little too angry, a little too proud. What the hell was he supposed to do now that they were on the same playing ground?

Mondo stood on his side of the gate, arms folded in defiance, fingers tapping. He watched as the former gang leader launched himself over the gate, not even waiting for Kirigiri’s permission. He even made breaking and entering look cool, just like that movie they used to watch as kids. _The Outsiders? The Outsiders._

_Thud._ “I can’t believe you’re just gonna go and get your first boyfriend without askin’ for my advice-” Hands brushed the dust off his pristine white coat. “How the hell did you manage to woo somebody, dipshit?”

Mondo tried to explain, stumbling over his words, and despite being a proper juvenile delinquent, at this moment, he felt very small. Like the idiot kid brother all over again. How many times would he be faced with his mistakes? Over and over and over, round and round and round, _phosphene, phosphene, phosphene._

Daiya held a hand up. “Can it, short stack- I don’t care who you date, as long as you’re happy.” Mondo smiled, feeling just enough at ease to try looking his brother in the eye…

Only to realize he was looking down. All of a sudden, a realization hit him, something that shook Mondo to his core. He was the older one now. His brother died at his graduation party, one last big hurrah for the Crazy Diamonds. That was a few years ago now, stuck eternally at eighteen, the intersection between shithead teenager and young adult. And while he felt younger, and damn it if he didn’t act more immature...Junko wiped their memories...

He was nineteen, wasn’t he?

The world began to spin, spin faster and faster in his head—the lights. God everything was lights and a blur, lights, and a blur. _Phosphene_. _Phosphenephosphenephosphene_. Daiya was talking at him, but none of the words reached his ears, like they were stuck underwater, muddled and heavy. He was easy at first, clearly attempting some greetings, but his demeanor shifted to concern, like the paternal figure they never had. It only made Mondo’s head hurt more, ears entirely stuffed with cotton and eyes seared with lights. 

He grabbed his head. He hit the ground. And Daiya didn’t know what to do.

\--------

“Jesus Christ, kid, don’t go dying on my twice-”

A splash of cold water jolted him out of his stupor, and the first thing Mondo saw were lights, blinding lights, lights to the edge of infinity. He threw an arm over them with a groan. God, his head fucking hurt. After a few minutes of labored breathing, everything started to calm down again. 

Thinking his possibilities through, the biker resigned himself to peeking from under his arm. What else was there to do? It stung, but as the world readjusted, a ghost came into focus. This was his arrival all over again. Mondo couldn’t decide which was worse.

Daiya rapped his hand against his brother’s head. “Don’t go doin’ that, you scared the shit outta me.” 

This was probably worse. 

All Mondo could do was smile and shake his head, tired and empty. With a sigh, he pressed his palms against his eye sockets, willing away the circles of light. 

“...do you hate me? “

While he couldn’t see Daiya’s face, he felt his brother’s weight shift next to him, plopping down from a squat to sit. He gave a heavy sigh, breath steady and controlled. 

“I used to,” he admitted, and the confession sent another fissure through the biker’s already fragile ego. “...but I snapped out of it real quick. You were a kid-”

“A weak kid-”

“Dumb? Sure. A jackass? Without a doubt. But you ain’t weak, Mondo. Never were.”

They sat together in silence, enjoying each other’s company. There was the sound of wind and heavy breathing. Somewhere far away, a car drove by. It’s engine purred, but nothing as beautiful as his bike. As _their_ bikes. 

They were older. Well, one of them was. They were both former gang leaders, each disgraced in their own way, a unique way. They were equals. 

What did that mean for them?

“ _...whatever happened to the gang?”_

Daiya gave a hum. “Nothing you can do anything about now.”

The sentence made hot tears well up, and Mondo was glad that he was covering his eyes. His palms pressed in harder, willing them away. He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Daiya. Not out of rage. Not out of frustration or failure or anything else, not ever again. He can’t let his emotions keep doing this. There’s gotta be a better way. 

“Then they all gotta know then, _Jesus Christ-”_

“I kept your secret,” Daiya said rather plainly, which made his brother pause. A hand shifted, and lavender eyes met lavender. With a sniff, Mondo wiped some snot away. 

“. _..what?_ ”

“I kept that stupid secret that meant so much to you. Way to throw me under like that, by the way…” Daiya started to laugh before he noticed Mondo’s grave expression. He stifled it into a cough. “...sorry…”

“What do you mean? You _kept my secret?_ ” The biker scrambled upwards, the sudden movements sending flashes of light behind his eyes. “Why the _hell_ would you do that?!”

Daiya shrugged. “The guys needed somebody to look up to, I mean-” His brother shifted his weight, pushing himself to lean forward. “Jesus Christ Mondo, did you see what you did to the gang? You grew it to like, half the size of fuckin’ Japan. We could’ve had our country. That’s all on you. Some kids’ve never even seen Daiya Oowada-“

“You did some wicked shit. Why the hell would I ruin all that for you to save my neck? I’m _dead,_ Mondo. What’s the fuckin’ point?”

The response left him floored. He did do that, huh? With Takemichi’s help, yeah, but that was… him. He did that. And he let those stupid kids down, killing Chihiro like that. But there were other stupid kids here who looked up to him, huh? He was a role model. A real fucking lousy one, but to somebody, maybe Mondo Oowada was all they got. Just like Daiya was to him.

Jesus, he’s really gotta start acting the part, huh?

“So- all of it?” Mondo started, looking up at the sky. The blue sky. Jesus Christ how he missed it, he’d never take it for granted again. 

“It wasn’t for nothing, no. I mean. I guess it was, you fuckin’ ate it-” Mondo snorted, finally able to take the execution joke. “But you grew up-- _both of youse did._ It was gonna take something that drastic to get through that thick fucking skull of yours.”

Mondo nodded. What else was there to do? 

After a few more minutes basking in the sun, Mondo glanced over, turning his brother, the glint in his eyes emboldened.

“Is...is Chuck here?”

A pause, before a toothy grin, blossomed across his “older” brother’s face. Daiya clapped Mondo on the back. Even if he was the shorter one now, it didn’t mean the five-star didn’t hurt like hell. 

“Goddamnit kid -- I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was rlly debating adding the next two chapters bc its a little divergent from the overall story but idk. daiya is important. we stan daiya oowada and his stupid fucking pompadour in this house.


	15. definition of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daiya and taka have a mutual connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daiya oowada gives kiyotaka the talk (true story) (not clickbait) (vlogmas 2020)
> 
> i once again throw this up without proofreading. after this update there's only four more chpaters in this fic. can you believe it? i can see the light. AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHAAHHAHAHH YOU GET IT????? D E A T H J O K E

“You must be Daiya Oowada! I have heard so much about you; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally.” 

Daiya glanced down at the man bowing before him before his eyes shifted to the right. Mondo was just standing there, an awkward expression plastered on his face. While he was no expert at emotions, he could read his brother like a goddamned book. And right now, it looked like the ultimate was barely holding it together, trying his best not to pee his pants at his boyfriend’s overenthusiasm. 

And honestly? Daiya couldn’t blame him. 

Don’t get the man wrong; this shit was adorable. The raven-haired boy was the definition of “endearing,” and yeah, he was loud, but so were the Crazy Diamonds. He’d fit right in. But god _ damn  _ was he wound tight. How this Type A motherfucker was going to put up with Mondo “I-don’t-know-how-to-do-my-laundry-so-I-keep-buying-new-tanktops” Oowada, he didn’t know. 

Daiya shifted his weight back, shoving his hands into his back pockets. “Yeah, yeah, kid, don’t sweat it.” The former prefect stole a glance up before standing erect, like a little tin soldier. Yeah, that’s exactly what he was like. So stern and put together, but you can hardly take that baby’s face seriously… 

_ Ah, why was he bein’ so critical, anyways _ ? In all honesty...Daiya never expected for Mondo to bring anyone home, let alone a boy, LET alone a law-abiding citizen. He kind of expected the biker to remain single forever. Lord knows that’s his track record. 

And to be frank, Daiya had fully prepared himself for Mondo to return (at the earliest) in his forties. This was at least twenty years too early. What the hell were they doin’? How the hell did they expect him to do it?

“Kiyotaka, right?” Daiya asked. The boy nodded, enthusiastically, his head’s shaking enveloping his whole body. “Kiyotaka- walk with me here.”

Daiya gestured for him to follow. Taka looked from “older” to “younger,” looking for some kind of guidance here (anything!) Mondo shrugged. He was on his own. Turning back, the moral compass decided the best thing to do was to hear Daiya out on whatever he had to say. That’s his sort-of, kind-of brother-in-law after all…

They walked together in silence, pacing the courtyard. So this is Hope’s Peak, huh? He never got to see Mondo to move-in day--that’s his only regret. But at the same time, the kid only got to come here because he ate it, right? Who knows if he could have done what he’d done without his  _ “forbidden backstory--” _ it’s always been the fire under his belly. Can you be an Ultimate without a reason to be Ultimate? 

... that’s the kicker, huh?

Kiyotaka jogged ahead, opening and holding the door for his guest. What a nerd. As Daiya walked through the central lobby, however, he couldn’t help but whistle at the sight. Cases full of awards and trophies, fine art, and photographs. Mementos on mementos on mementos. This was it, huh? You could have told him this hallway right here was heaven, and Daiya would have believed you.  _ He went to school here? Every day? _ He thought, smudging a finger against the glass.  _ The boy better’ve studied, or I’m gonna kick his ass for throwing that opportunity awa- _

“ _...ahem-” _

Daiya turned to see Kiyotaka standing by one display, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“... whaddya want, kid…?”

“Oh! I just have something I would like for you to see!” Kiyotaka’s face lit up, and Daiya felt a grin tug at his own lips. No matter how stern eyebrows or hard the gaze, that boy’s smile was infectious. 

You know what? He had hesitations about the kid being related to a cop and a geezer, but he “got” it.  _ Yeah, he got it.  _

Daiya slinked over to the display, but what he saw made his heart drop. Everything froze, and about as soon as the smile showed up on his face, it fell off again. His old belt buckle, with the words “ **CRAZY DIAMONDS** ” encrusted in silver and gold. Hell, he’d spent good money to add some small carats to the piece after a particularly astonishing brawl. How could he ever forget about this thing? It was his pride and joy. The one token of leadership he refused to hand over. 

Honestly? Looking at it? Daiya thought he was going to throw-up. 

“I’m sure you have..figured this out by now, Daiya, but Mondo and I have been dating for  _ a few years now- _ ” Kiyotaka looked almost sheepish, refusing to make eye contact. Instead, his eyes tracked on the buckle, eternally shiny. In the real world, eternally lost. 

“It’s a tradition at Hope’s Peak to give at least one memento to the school,” the prefect continued his voice earnest. “These represent your talent and achievements, something to mark your time as a Super High School Level student before you give up that title upon graduation. The _ hope  _ was that one day the next student who shares the title would take inspiration in those who came before.”

“ _ Those who came before, huh? _ Can’t imagine there’s too many Ultimate Delinquents.”

Taka shook his head. “You’re right. Mondo was the first to possess his title. The start of a lineage.”

“Seems like the end of it to me.”

Kiyotaka said nothing.

Both men stood in silence, looking at the display case. Prying his eyes away from the centerpiece, Daiya took in the other marvels of Hope’s Peak. Taka was right. There were things for everyone here: countless research journals, trophies, a signed baseball from Leon Kuwata’s professional team. 

Taking inventory on what was and wasn’t there, some talents had more representation than others. Those in the stem and athletic fields were the most heavily represented, as there will always be another great chemist or great athlete, once the current Ultimate graduates. Then fine arts, something that took a combination of raw talent and finessed skill. The least prominent, however, were the professions. Oddballs. From what he could tell, there was...what, a stack of comic books? Handmade stuffed animals and…

_ Jesus Christ that was the emblem of the Kuzuryuu clan. What the fuck was that doing here?! _

“....”

“.....so why  _ did  _ he give the buckle.”

Kiyotaka placed his hands on his hips in thought. “He gave it to inspire others, just as it inspired him.”

“Yeah?”  _ No shit. _ He may be the idiot kid brother, but Mondo didn’t turn out half-bad after all…

...what was he doing? Daiya came here to learn about Kiyotaka, and here he was, defining the prefect within the context of the relationship. Surely there’s gotta be more to this guy than his partner, but hell if he wasn’t treating him that way. He was in that mortal plane for nineteen years, reduced down to this? 

_ I’ve been such a dick.  _

Daiya swallowed hard before glancing over to the raven-haired boy. “I, uh, wanna apologiz-”

“Hmm?”

“ _...I was saying I wanna apologize to ya... _ ” Daiya tried again, this time pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think I’ve been perfectly fair to you today-”

“Nonsense, Daiya! I have had a perfectly amicable time!”

“You’re not  **hearing** me, kid. I, uh-” God, he was just as out-of-touch with his own emotions as Mondo right now. Spending time with his brother must have rubbed off on him. “I never really... _ pictured  _ Mondo having a boyfriend, that’s all. N-not that I have anything against it, I guess I just... never really paid a lot of attention to it. I assumed things that weren’t worth assuming,  _ alright _ ?”

The prefect fell very quiet and very still, and for a second, Daiya worried he broke him. But that second was over as quickly as it began as Kiyotaka Ishimaru frantically tried to explain how he would _never do anything to hurt him, Daiya, I promise to treat him with the utmost respect and courtesy and-_

“ _ Goddamn kid, take a breather _ . You’re missing my point- ...I don’t really care if you’re a boy or anythin’ else, that ain’t my lane to have an opinion in. I’m just happy Mondo’s happy. But I’ve been so busy thinkin’ of you as… ‘my brother’s partner,’ I ain’t hardly taken the chance to think of ‘you’ as  _ you- _ ”

“-and I’m sorry for that, Kiyotaka.”

A beat, and then…

“...Taka is fine. That’s what everyone else calls me.”

Red eyes met lavender, similar to how they have many hundreds of times before, but not quite the same. That’s alright. There was a mutual understanding between the two of them.

“So, Taka- ...uh, which one of these is yours?”

The raven-haired boy lit up. “Oh boy-  _ I thought you’d never ask. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha did i just write a fic criticizing how we as a fandom only recognize mondo and taka in context of their relationship and not how much they have to each otehr as individual characters? get punkd thats some meta shit eat my entire ass asldfksdafjasdlfjaskdf
> 
> ok but seriously. this fic series, if you can't tell, is very mondo&leon&chihiro&mukuro&sayaka centric. HWOEVER if you want some taka time (taka taka) i recommend my mobster series that series is very makoto&kirigiri&kiyotaka&hajime centric with flavors of fuyuhiko&akane&leon&mondo


	16. princess piggles season four (closing credits)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ha. you guys thought i disliked hifumi, didn't you? stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupi-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas. after this there's only two more chpaters and then the epilogue. light at the tunnel. tbh i might just. fuck around and finisht the series this week so i can focus on the mobster one. im not forgetting it trust me. i just. need to focus on this rn. i am determined to get this one done.

“ _ Miss Maizono- _ ”

“ _ Hmm? _ ”

“ _ What is it like, being in love? _ ”

Sayaka looked up from her magazine and stared intently at the man before her. This was not a conversation she was expecting to have today, least of all with the Ultimate Dojin. Hifumi looked back at her with those big, empty hazel eyes of his before glancing down, working on a new panel. Her eyes followed, only to be met with a sketch of an executioner’s batting cage. They flickered back up as quickly as they fell. 

While some of their upperclassmen or reserve course peers found Hifumi to be, well,  _ a lot _ , no one in their class seemed to mind. Too much. Celestia had made it clear what her stance was on the man, but Class 78 made it clear what their stance was on her until she would apologize. (Something she had still yet to do…)

“...why are you asking me?” She asked rather plainly, resting her head in her hand. “You don’t like me, do you, Hifumi?”

“Ugh,  **no** , of course not-” He replied almost without thinking, so absorbed in his work. A beat, and then, “ _ Y-you know what I mean, Miss Maizono, you’re a lovely girl, but I- I _ …”

Sayaka rolled her eyes, flipping to a new page in her magazine. Something about nail polish techniques. She folded the corner. “Then what is it, Yamada?”

“I just…” he looked up, searching for his words. With a shake of the head, he glanced back down, attempting to push his glasses up like they do in anime where the lens will flare. Something to prevent eye contact. While it may look mysterious and classy on screen, in real life, it did little but adjust.  _ Drats.  _ “I just don’t know if I’ve felt it before, that’s all.”

_ Rustle rustle.  _ Sayaka folded her magazine, placing it on the table between them. She was listening. 

_ Oh,  _ the Alpha and the Omega thought to himself.  _ Alright.  _ Despite his fanciful airs and elaborate personas, he was not used to...being the center of attention. That was something for his online persona. For his dojin. Not for himself. Hifumi went on. 

“I-I’ve felt feelings or strong affection before, and I thought that was love...and maybe it was a kind, I do not know,” he looked to the side, shifting his weight in his seat. “ _ B-but it was never  _ ROMANtic (least of all sexual…) just...just a bond?”

Sayaka hummed. “And what about Alter Ego, or 2-D imagery?”

“Well yes, I do like those-”

“But, you wouldn’t say you like Chihiro…?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I see…”

Together they sat in silence, Hifumi attempting to go back to work. But instead, he ended up  _ taptaptapping  _ his pencil against the table, tapping until the led broke.  _ Darn.  _ No avoiding the conversation at hand now…

“...is it... **weird** that I have not felt things in the romantic, or,  _ ahem,  _ ‘intimate’ form…?” Hifumi gulped, readjusting the collar of his shirt. Suddenly everything felt hot and the room stuff. This shirt was too tight, and his face was burning with heat. An embarrassed heat. “Does that...make me broken?”  _ Could someone turn on a fan, mayhaps? _

Sayaka hummed. “Not broken, I don’t think.”

“ _ r-Really? This doesn’t… _ **_emasculate_ ** _ me? _ !”

“I’m not an expert in this,” Sayaka admitted with a shake of her head. Her words made Hifumi’s heart sink. “...but it might just be how  _ you  _ work.”

…a revive has been presented. Maybe there is hope yet for our mysterious dwarven hero.

“Would you know where I could, ah, learn more- …?”

Sayaka thought to herself. “Well, like I said--I am no expert. But your best first place to start might be online…”

Online. Right. He was an expert in research. Internet browsing was practically his bread-and-butter. A small smiled graced his lips, filled with a newfound determination to figure out this path ahead. 

Hifumi went back to scribbling, filling the panels with little balls. Artistic. They had beautiful shading. But honestly, could he not read the room? ...at least it wasn’t a bear trap. Sayaka shook her head, going back to her magazine.

A few minutes passed in relative silence. The flip of a page. The scribbling of the pencil. The tick-tock of the clock. Synchronized breath. It was peaceful. It was Hope’s Peak. It was there home. And just as she settled into the comfort quiet, something sudden (and something loud) interrupted her. 

Hifumi had pushed his chair behind him, having pulled one leg propped upon it in a superhero-esque pose. He held the dojin in the air, complete with a stylized drawing of Leon’s corpse…while there was no ill-intention behind the piece, something about it made her heart hurt. In all honesty, angst was probably the intention. 

“ _ I refuse to let mortal sensualities get in the way of justice... _ **_literary justice!!!_ ** ” Hifumi announced to no one in particular, waving his pamphlet in the air. Sayaka giggled. 

“But you won’t give up on friendship, right?” Sayaka said with a smile. 

Hifumi practically  _ threw _ himself back into his seat. “Of  _ COURSE _ not Miss Maizono! Princess Piggles’s powers derive from the joy of camaraderie.  **I** am very much the same <3”

“You know, before I came to Hope’s Peak, my idol group was approached to sing the Season Four Outro-”

The sound of Hifumi’s gasp cut her off, his eyes sparkling (almost like the magical girl anime he adored…) So with her friend’s encouragement (because that’s what Class 78 was,  _ friends _ ), she began to sing the first few lines. 

_ Wow!  _ Hifumi thought to himself, fluttering his eyelashes.  _ My least favorite of the closing credits songs. Still, a private Princess Piggles performance? Perhaps this was heaven, after all. _

No, Sayaka Maizono never understood why her schoolmates gave Hifumi a hard time. Maybe he came off a little too strong, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Loyal to a fault, even if that meant his downfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen fandom wouldn't hate hifumi if he was a more "traditionally attractive" (thin) character. he is a loyal guy. half the accusations u make about him are NOT TRUE!!!! listen he's so easy to josh on and such a fun character to write but we do not hate hifumi in this household. lmaoooo
> 
> also i have had the hifumi is asexual coded hc for a long time because he makes it pretty clear in every way he knows how that he is not interested in physical or romantic relationships. like. idk where the perv hc came from. because he does everything he can to say he is not looking for that sort of thing just short of saying "i am asexual." he has multiple!! dialogue options where he says he's not interested in ppl irl. like. i hope i was able to portray this hc with justice. you can be asexual and still make sexual content. asexuality is defined as a lack of sexual attraction, it does not necessarily mean sexual repulsion. there's loads of types of asexuality. i did some brushing up on my intersectional literature on this one so i hope it came across clearly but still, lmk if i need to update. 
> 
> hifumi is nice u guys are just mean


	17. proximity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's cruel to hope for death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh hi gamers been a while

“It is cruel to hope for death-” 

Two very separate conversations took place across Hope’s Peak that day. Two lines, running parallel. Two lovers mourning for lost time. Two friends talking them off the ledge. 

In the second-floor corridor were a pair of friends, one hunched over on a stair while the other stood above, just watching. The silence between them was thick and tense, something to be cut through with a knife. And elsewhere sat a pair in the sakura garden, a room neither would live long enough to see. Their silence was calm, filled with words better left unsaid.

“You know you can’t say things like that, r-right?” Chihiro finally said, squatting down next to his friend. His voice was...small, filled with uncertainty in his own right. Maybe he could. Maybe that’s how Leon copes. Maybe there was no meaning behind it, nothing at all, and it’s just another angry outburst, another pissing fit, another first trial. 

But “maybe” doesn’t make something right. 

“You can’t say that, Leon, I mean it-” Chihiro repeated himself, this time a little more firmly. “I mean you  _ can _ , b-but you shouldn’t-”

“ _ And why not, huh? _ ” The baseball player shot up, whipping around to face his friend. Crystal blue eyes were bloodshot, red and hot from crying, though you better not say anything. “I can say whatever I mean,  _ and I mean it- _ ”

“ _ You cannot truly mean that mon Amie _ -” A pair of kitten heels clicked, three steps to the martial artist’s one. Celeste had been on her feet all day, trailing behind Sakura’s pacing. Without warning, Sakura stopped in her tracks, causing Celeste to bump into her.

There she stood, head hung in thought. Sakura looked up with a shaky breath, eyes placed firmly ahead, though looking at nothing in particular. “This...is true,” her voice was steady, as steady as it can be. “A moment of human weakness.”

“A moment of human  _ nature- _ ”  _ clickclickclick _ . Celeste walked around to Sakura’s side, looking up at the much taller woman. There was no smile, but there wasn’t any hatred or remorse either. It was merely a statement of truth—nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then call it a moment of dumbassery, why don’t you?” Leon scoffed, pushing himself up from his stair. He had to get outta here. He had to throw. 

“O-h, ok then,” Chihiro smiled, though there was a small falter. “It’s a moment of dumbassery.” And to that, Leon grinned, though there was nothing nice about it. A cruel, hateful kind of smile.

“You know what I hate?  _ Ishimaru and Oowada _ ,” Leon practically spat the words out, filled with acid and disgust. 

“Leon, you can’t  _ really _ mean that-”

“ _ Like hell I don’t.  _ They get to be happy! And young and together and all those other wonderful things and I-I try to stay supportive, man, I’m really trying,  _ but how come they get to be happy in a stupid fucking place like this and not any of the rest of us?  _ It’s...I don’t know what it is, but what part of that is  ** right ** ?”

“ _ None _ of this is right, Taeko,” Sakura stated. By now, Celeste accepted her fate as Taeko Yasuhiro, though the words stung every time. “Nothing has been right since I betrayed you all.”

“I believe you mean, “coerced into betrayal-”

“It does not make a difference; a traitor is a traitor.”

“And had Asahina’s plan went through, she would have caused more harm than anything you ever put us through.”

And to that, Sakura did not reply.

Despite their distance, a long moment of silence was shared between both pairs. Words were exchanged, but were any of them genuinely meant? What would that say about them? What would that say about  _ us?  _ The tension was palpable, something to cut through with a knife.  _ A knife… _

Leon often thought back to that night, how the blade lodged its way into Sayaka’s chest, the sound it made, and the horrible resistance he was met with. He fucked up. Whether or not it was meant or self-defense or an accident or on purpose, he fucked up. And now he was here, and his other was there, and he wanted to be there so badly, so badly it made the baseball player want to scream but he  _ couldn’t _ so the best thing to hope for was that Yasuhiro joined him sometime soon. But that was wrong.

It’s cruel to hope for death. 

So with very little fanfare, he slumped back down on the stair, pressing his hands into his eyes until small dots of white filled his vision. 

Elsewhere the pacing stopped. Elsewhere words were exchanged. Elsewhere there was a sigh and a sad, empty smile and a nod of feigned acceptance with a tiny bit of selfish longing still looming in the background. Elsewhere Sakura Ogami pretends things are ok, that she understands, that a part of her isn’t disappointed that Aoi’s plan failed, the part of her she hates more than anything for human weakness, human selfishness, a mortal sin. 

Together there was proximity. Together they were alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight im ngl i quit taking my meds and haha You Can Tell anyways school's back, ive got a sleep schedule going, im actually taking care of my mental health, and im motivated enough to finish this bitch. not my best work but like hey i need to Get This Done ANd Just Produe


	18. wrong.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe i told you i would finish this fic

...A sudden sound fills the air, both all too familiar and yet foreign on the ears: _Ding_ _ dong, bing bong.  _ Class 78A looked up all at once, an instinct yet unlearned. The newest group felt terror, fear of a body discovery- or worse, a trial. The students longer passed, only empty disappointment as another classmate makes their faithful homecoming.

As Sayaka rushed from the rooftop Sakura garden all the way down, down, down to the first floor, she felt a well-callused hand grab her wrist. "... c'mon-"  _ It's the first words Leon had spoken to her since Sakura's arrival. _ She swallowed a small smile, saving some hope for...not forgiveness, but maybe...common ground. They pushed on to their solemn task. Death is no time to celebrate the small victories. She was not so selfish as to do that.

Leon and Sayaka arrived last despite their self-appointed duties. Pushing towards the front of the crowd, Leon plastered on a forced grin, a little more pained than before. He didn't...want to do this. Not again.  _ And yet… _

_How many? How many_ was always the lingering fear in the back of their minds, _how many_ will arrive? Good would be...one. Not good, but better. The best would be none at all. And worse? ...worse would be the bell for the very last time as that meant a betrayal they could not fathom. So Leon would settle for…" better." ~~Not like he had a say in the matter now.~~

And there they stood in a semi-circle, slotted into their self-assigned places with a space left for those who have not yet joined their ranks. A little like an old class photo but not one any of them remembered taking. Only Junko. It's probably better that way.

Their headmaster kept off to the side, glancing anxiously at a clocktower despite the lack of change. His foot  _ taptaptapped _ against the ground, its steady drum breaking the otherwise still-silence. They stood there at the gates, not pearly, not anything, really. Just gates. Just students. Friends, maybe. Class 78A -- or what's lost of it. 

A flash of light, so blinding you have to shield your eyes. It's easy to forget "...what" this place was, bu t in moments like this? Where the impossible is just another inconvenience, the improbable proven, the inconceivable brought about with ease- each and every student had to remember that they are, in fact, dead. As is every person around them.  
  
It's sad. Not the passing. The loss of blissful ignorance. The light faded away, taking some of their false glimmer with it-

_ And laying on the ground in a pile of khaki and leather was someone death surely could never touch. For who had the guts to kill Kyoko Kirigiri?  _

She was disheveled and in panic, her signature braid smushed and bow left somewhere far, far away. The bruises on her body matched the purple in her coat and with a cry, Kirigiri sat up. _Legs shouldn't stick out at those angles_. Whatever was done to her was unjust and cruel, no matter the crime committed. 

No one, not even a murderer, deserved their fates. 

No one, especially not Kyoko, deserved this.

The detective looked up and then over, taken aback by the faces of her long-dead classmates. While not over-emotive, her expression was telling, maybe more so than any of them had the pleasure of witnessing. She shuffled back almost on instinct before giving out a pathetic little cry, her leg caught on the ground. It only left her classmates in more shock, the space between them growing as a few stepped back as Kyoko pushed on. What are they to do? Can they help her? Can  _ they  _ help  _ her? _

Lavender eyes scan the group, distrust, hatred, maybe...no. No, nothing like that. Fear. Fear of the unknown combined with the fear of knowledge thrust her way. Whatever Kyoko may have believed came after, well... _this is not it._ And yet **here she is**. Victims and blackeneds and _traitors_ standing arm-in-arm with-

In the middle was a man named Jin Kirigiri, who looked upon her with wet eyes and a soft smile. 

"...Dad?"

Jin nods. "I'm afraid so." 

"This is wrong."

A thoughtful pause. "I know."

Jin snaps, and the world as they knew it began to rapidly unfold.  
  
Like that, the Ultimate Detective was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally only have the epilogue left THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME I am gonna start a new series soon and hopefully(?) continue the mob au? mayb? depends where I feel with going w/ it anyways brrrrrbrbrbr winter break = writing baby! 
> 
> consider dropping me a follow over @ bipp_splapl on tiktok and insta? its kinda fire bro


	19. EPILOGUE: that isn't the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chiaki nanami comes for a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys im sad now

When all was said and done, no one else returned to that place. They wouldn’t, not for a very long time. If this were to be a place of reconciliation, coping, acceptance, and moving on, well-- a day would come when Class 78 could leave. 

One by one they left, off to explore their dreamlike void, somewhere between reality and fiction. Hifumi first, surprisingly enough. He was quick to realize his mistakes and found...not “peace” in his past, but an awareness—a separation of action and intent. Anyone would have done what he did, given the information he had. That’s what he had to tell himself. That’s one way to cope. And so, when Kiyotaka finally made peace, he left in other pursuits. There were so many industry greats he just had to talk to. 

Then, Kiyotaka, followed shortly by Chihiro, Leon, Sayaka, Sakura, and Mondo. Celeste had more work than the others, but she left in her own time. 

It was Mukuro who stayed back. She couldn’t leave. There was an unimaginable weight on her shoulders from crimes the others would never understand.  _ Could _ never understand, and in the end-- where was there to go? If she were to show her face to the general public... _ no, no, that wasn’t an option. _ Hope's Peak Academy was her life and home and a place she destroyed. In quiet contemplation she stayed, wandering its empty halls.

From time to time students would return, a symbolic homecoming in its own right. Mukuro was weary those days, staying quiet and out of the way. Sometimes they saw her. She preferred it when they did not. The student council...was harder to face than others, so she chose not to. A coward’s move, maybe. Reason enough to stay in this place. 

It was a crisp winter day when Chiaki arrived, or something close to that. As close to that as you can be in this place. The weather was odd here. Maybe she just...willed it to be, and there it was. An excuse to wear a wool coat, grey with dark buckles. Elegant. Plain. Chiaki, of course, wore green. 

At no point did it seem like she came for Jin or another classmate. Chiaki Nanami was looking for  _ her. _ And so they sat outside the school, watching the empty air where a fountain should be, its water turned off for a weather advisory that was not real. What might have been in cars in the distance broke their silence. 

After a few minutes of huffing and puffing, Mukuro cleared her throat...at the same time Chiaki went to speak.   
“Well are you-” “ _How has it-_ ”

“...you go on-” “ _ No really, I insi- _ ”

“....” “ _....” _

Mukuro braced herself. “Are you doing...better?”

Chiaki shrugged in her tired way. “Spikes are tricky, but I’d like to think so.” 

It was stated so candidly, a fact of life. A fact of  _ death. _ All Mukuro could do was nod.  _ Yes...yes, spikes  _ _ were _ _ tricky...she knew this to be true. _

Shared silence. And then.

“...was it worth it?” Mukuro asked.

“What was?” 

The soldier waved her hand around in the air, hoping Chiaki would find a semblance of meaning in a statement devoid of all.

“Oh…” A pause, and then. “I suppose it had to have been.”

“You  _ died _ -”

“As did you.”  
Silence. 

It would be a few minutes before either dared to act, sitting on words left unsaid. Words that would remain unsaid. Words escaping. Words unsure of their presence. And then, Chiaki stood, smoothing out her skirt. 

Mukuro tried again. “...it wasn’t worth it, was it-”  
“ _No, probably not._ ” Chiaki cut her off, voice blunt but not unkind. “It would have saved us a lot of trouble if none of this ever happened. But that isn’t the end, you know? They’re alive. And things _will_ be better.” With that, she turned to leave, circling the bench and heading for the gate once more.

Mukuro turned, hands gripping the back of the bench. “Will they?” Less a question, more a plea.  
Chiaki Nanami turned, giving a small, tired smile. “They have to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a wrap on "to reckon!" i might come back to do some editing time to time but this is the series as I originally outlined it. thank you all for sticking with me, I hope to have some more works soon. I've decided the next fanfic series im gonna work on In Depth is a little more personal and will address mischaracterization i see in the dr fandom Often. it will be shorter than this series but yeah, I'm hoping to start working on it soon. 
> 
> thank you all for the support. <3 i appreciate each and every one of you dearly

**Author's Note:**

> ya so again...this is how im completing to reckon. anthology to chap fic. 
> 
> IM SO HAPPY to hear ppl are interested in making like. fanart and content around this story aaaaaaaaa its making my screenwriting herat so happy. im just a simple film major u guys omg. IF u do anything the best places to find me are @bipp_splapl on tiktok, tumblr and instagram !!!
> 
> i seriously am so happy u guys like this story. im so excited for more stories i want to tell after this !!!!! we ball


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